


Erstwhile

by Taffyberry



Series: Arcalima [3]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Mage - freeform, Magic, Slow Burn, Warcraft - Freeform, angsty, characters overcoming self doubts, i wanna add more tags but I don't want to ruin the plot :v, it's not all going to be happy ofc, later on its kind of, posession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-19 03:06:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taffyberry/pseuds/Taffyberry
Summary: Jaina brings Eryn to Anduin's side after he has been left crushed under the bell by Garrosh Hellscream. Upon return to Stormwind, Eryn and Anduin work on their relationship more, now that she's worked out her own issues and they both have the time to be able to do so. However, Garrosh escapes during his trial, and the dark portal is active again, and on top of this, Eryn receives a strange letter claiming to be from her brother.





	1. I: BAD NEWS

**Author's Note:**

> Weee part three. This one is kind of split into two parts; the first half kind of has no real plot to it. I'm not sure how many chapters it will last, but I have a few ideas for it. The second half is where the actual plot is going to kick in and stuff gets more serious :v. I haven't decided where in the time line this is going to take us, I'm debating stopping it pre-broken shore, and then not starting whatever comes after this until the new book and expansion is out fully but :v honestly, this could be the last actual series of Eryn. Maybe if I feel I have more to say about her after this I can do another shorter series, since I do really want to explore how she would react to Varian's death and Anduin's just... well his melt down over it :vvvvvv  
> anyway enough rambling :vvv no epilogue for this one! Just jumping straight into the first chapter. (Which I don't like oh my god it's so full of rambling I am so sorry)

**** PART ONE  
EPHEMERAL  


Chapter One  
Bad News

* * *

**  
**

****  
****

The dark portal was still.

It had been still for a long time, it remained still, it would, hopefully, always be still. But Khadgar refused to forsake his vigil, he knew one day despite all his hopes, that something would use it again. That the Legion were not gone, and while the portal was there… He sighed deeply. The blasted lands were not the prettiest to look at either, and with the only town being Nethergarde, and that was small and usually full of shouting and fighting between the Horde and their spies, there wasn’t really much to do. He spent a lot of time thinking, reading, or writing. But that was that.

He never thought he’d have been glad for an apprentice for the past six months, but Eryn gave him someone to talk to. She was intelligent enough that he could bounce ideas off her head, and her mind worked in such strange ways that she often gave him a perspective he hadn’t thought of. Plus, there was the elemental who would often also give his own input. He’d been fascinated by Alchos and by Arcalima, hooked as it was on Eryn’s every story about the maleficar and how she came to find these things out.

Six months ago, she was an entirely different person. It was strange what time could do to a person, time and a focus. He’d been doubtful at first, but she truly did work hard and had overcome most of her sorrows. She carried herself better, surer of who she was, and had regained her love for using magic as if it were commonplace. She was refreshing to have around. It had been hard to get her to this point, but she listened, was always willing to try something. He thought she had grown a bit, too, she’d lost a lot of the youthful softness to her face.

Currently she was at the town getting supplies while he kept his vigil. She would be back soon. Yet, Khadgar couldn’t help but feel as though something significant were about to happen. There was something strange within the air, and at first, he thought it had something to do with the poral, but the more he focused on it, the more he realised the magic in the air was moving in strange ways. As if it were searching for someone, or something. Truthfully, he hoped they would be left alone, that it concerned neither of them, but if he had learned anything, it was that his gut was usually right.

And right then it was telling him that something was coming.

But for now, he’d relax. The elderly wizard sighed, staring with his nose turned up at the corpse of a demon that Eryn had slain that morning. She wanted to study it, to see if they had any weaknesses, to see if their blood could be used in anything. But all it had done was burn through her gloves and burn her hand quite badly.She’d jumped back and yelled in response, almost kicking it until she’d realised it would burn through her boots and probably the bottom of her robe.He had to admit it had been quite funny, he would have warned her, but she was the type to learn better by doing something once. Besides the burns on her hand, she was unharmed, and so he felt it was fine to find the situation amusing. 

The demons were good for her to work out her anger. She felt no remorse in destroying them, and indeed they had to be gotten rid of anyway. She’d struggled at first, especially with the felhunters, they were immune to all but the strongest spells, so she’d had to figure out how to increase the potency of weaker spells to affect them.He thought she quite enjoyed it, and he thought he quite enjoyed her company more than he’d ever let on. 

Khadgar was also amused to find of her friendship with the prince. He’d noted that he’d been friends with Varian’s father and had great respect for him. Those were different times though, the horde which existed now was not the same horde back in. He’d asked her, a few times, if she would engage within the conflict if she was asked to. She’d said no, but he wasn’t sure whether or not she believed it. She didn’t seem to want to hurt anyone of them anymore but held no like nor love for Garrosh or Sylvanas. She’d also assured him Anduin wasn’t like that; he’d never ask her to wage war and decimate their ranks. He would try diplomacy first; he’d exhaust every peaceful solution… and then she wasn’t sure what he would do. Unless he’d changed a good deal while being away, she didn’t think he’d ever resort to fighting.

Khadgar heaved out a sigh and turned as magic coalesced into a portal. His wishful thinking that they would be left alone entirely gone, and yet he felt more suspicious upon seeing the figure. Her face was narrowed in anger, her eyes alight with a fire Khadgar wasn’t entirely sure was… positive. And yet there was something else, grief. Lady Jaina Proudmoore did not come bearing good news. This was obviously not a social call. “Lady Proudmoore,” he greeted.

“I do not have time,” She half snapped, eyes darting around. They lingered in the demon, and then snapped back to the elderly mage. “Where is she? I have been searching the magical currents for any trace of her presence for hours now—you’ve covered all trace of her.”

“I did not wish us to be found nor disturbed unless important,” he replied simply. “She will return soon, she just went to get supplies and tend to the townspeople.”

He’d always heard that she was a polite and diplomatic woman, but if that was true he saw no trace of it here in this woman. Eryn had told him she’d taken the destruction of Theramore badly, but… no wonder Eryn had been so lost, he thought. This woman was a sister to her and yet she’d gone down a path Eryn had never wanted to follow. She’d been alone, unsure of where to go for guidance. 

“How long?”

“She left at dawn,” he said smoothly, trying to keep himself polite and calm despite her rudeness.“I’m sure whatever you have to say can wait a bit.”

“No, it can’t,” she said, this time not rude, and worry flickered over her face. “It absolutely can’t.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she had to say; wasn’t sure he wanted Eryn to know, either. Whatever news Jaina brought with her it was going to hurt the young girl. Could she handle it? She’d grown a lot, that was true, she’d become calmer and more at peace with herself. She’d accepted the anger and hatred she felt as normal emotions, moved past them into something else. She was still quick to temper, she got frustrated easily he’d noted, but she stopped reacting to those emotions instantly. 

They did not need to wait long for Eryn’s reappearance, though Jaina did not recognise her at first. She wore robes of a soft blue trimmed with gold thread. The top had a hood attached to it rather than to her cloak, which billowed out behind her, a deep brown colour. She looked older, Jaina thought, and she’d cut her hair off to her chin. Jaina felt sick; Eryn looked happy. She was going to ruin the happy.

She was no fool; she’d heard from Varian and Kalec the state Eryn had been in, but she’d no idea how to soothe her former apprentice at all. She wouldn’t lie; Jaina was not pleased to find she’d turned to Khadgar, he’d probably filled her head with nonsense about compassion and peace. Jaina learned the hard way the horde couldn’t be trusted; she’d sacrificed way too much, too much of the wrong thing for those ideals. Ideals the horde never wanted, ideals the horde used against her to their own ends. 

Now was not the time for that though.

“Jaina?” Eryn asked, putting down a pack at Khadgar’s feet. She levitated another over, keeping her eyes trained on her friend. She took her in, then frowned when Jaina’s face twisted into pain. “What is it?”

“It’s Anduin,” Jaina said quickly, moving to close the gap between them. “He’s severely hurt—he’s okay, Velen is healing him, but-“ she closed her eyes, unable to get the image out of her head of his crushed body. So small, so innocent. Garrosh would pay. 

Eryn felt cold.

Fear.

How? Why? _Who_?

They were all good questions, but she wasn’t sure she cared for the answers right then. Instead she clutched at Arcalima tightly, giving Khadgar an apologetic look. He understood; her friend was in trouble. Besides, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t free to leave when she wanted to. He’d heled her with Alchos as much as he could, he’d helped guide her as much as he could. She’d been lingering to keep him company and because she relied on the demons to expend her anger out on if she woke up from nightmares. They were so rare now, she hadn’t had one in a month. 

“Let’s go then,” she said to Jaina, gulping down all her fear. It didn’t matter what she felt—Anduin, he was hurt—she had to be there. 

Jaina would have smiled, but… he rmind was too full of plans against Garrosh to smile right then. He was going to pay for what he’d done—Jaina would make sure of it. She turned, conjouring up a portal to Lion’s Landing in the Karasang Wilds and sighed. “I’m not going with you, but Varian is expecting you.”

“How did he know I’d go?”

“Is that really a question?” Jaina murmured. She cared for Anduin, she’d not hesitated in her worry for him at all. They could both see it, Jaina especially. She’d been her age once, she’d fallen for a gentle prince who had turned anything but. Arthas had been a monster, yet she was so wracked with what if’s about it. Could she have stopped it? “We will talk more when I have time. Just go.”

Eryn turned to Khadgar and gave him a curt nod which he returned. She liked Khadgar, he was a little odd and somewhat eccentric at times, but he was paitent and willing to let her learn in her own ways. She found he was full of knowledge she didn’t imagine could be found elsewhere; she’d been lucky to stumble upon him.

She did not know where the portal would lead but stepped through anyway.

Eryn emerged into a small room in front of a desk littered with papers and a low burning candle. It was early evening. There was a window to which she could see the coast outside, the sea a violent blue which made her stomach twist in yearning of a memory of sea air and the excited morning sounds of children on their way to school. Behind the desk sat a man who looked older than she’d ever seen him. Worry lined every part of his face, every crease which seemed to be so ingrained there now she was positive they’d become a part of him. 

Varian looked up at her and put his quill down. He couldn’t concentrate on work and he had to admit he was pleased to see her and pleased to see that she looked a lot better than what she had done. Anduin was going to need someone when he awoke, and he couldn’t think of anyone better than Eryn. “Jaina found you.”

“Yes,” Eryn answered, scanning his face for any hints of what had happened. “How is-“

The king let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. Pain. Anduin was all he had left, she couldn’t imagine what it would do to him if Anduin—she clenched her fists, trying to remain calm. She had no answers yet, no information at all. “Alive,” he answered weakly. “He was lucky… Velen isn’t sure how he survived-“ he seemed to stumble over the words and Eryn moved towards him yet froze on the way. He was letting her see this, the vulnerable and intimate side, the private side which was covered and laced in a grief she had not felt yet. “His body was crushed.”

Horror struck her. “Crushed? But… how? Who?”

“Garrosh Hellscream,” Varian said darkly, a shadow covering his face as he tried to remain calm. She did not need to see the rage, and yet he noted the pain on her face as she clutched her hand tightly. He stared at her bandaged hand with a frown. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “Can I see him?”

She tried not to let the name affect her, but Garrosh Hellscream… the monster who took her home, who took her friends, her family—she felt a monster snap in her stomach and she breathed in deeply. If he’d taken Anduin from her, too, the only light she had left, she was certain she would no longer be stood in front of Varian. She’d have gone right after the Orc, done whatever she could to destroy everything he held dear. Instead, she had to focus. Anduin was more important than her rage.

“Of course,” he said quietly, putting his hand on her back and leading her out of his study. 

“Where is this place?” she murmured, peering out of another window. It looked so green and so full of life. She saw plants she’d never seen before, and, to her shock… Pandaren. She blinked a few times.

“Pandaria,” he murmured. “This is Lion’s Landing, in an area called the Karasang Wilds. When Anduin wakes up I’m sure he can tell you a lot. He’s taken a lot of interest here ever since he got…” he breathed out. “Washed up here.”

“What?!”

“The horde attacked his ship,” he spat. “I didn’t even know if he was alive for a time—and then he ran off from those I sent after him. Damn kid.”

Eryn found herself smiling. “Sounds like he had an adventure without me.”

Varian nodded and paused outside of the door to the room Anduin was in. He could hear Velen’s voice speaking softly and listened for a moment, before pushing the door open. Seeing his son lying there didn’t get any easier no matter how much he saw it. He was pale, and his face was still. He watched the horror form on her face, the anger, the concern.

“Oh you-“ She blurted out, rushing quickly to his side and kneeling there. Velen watched carefully, and she knew she was being rather impolite to not greet him, but she hadn’t realised just how bad—Anduin. Still was beautiful as she remembered, gentle face, hair golden and bright. He looked so fragile, so broken—“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” she muttered.

Varian gave her a small smile and then turned back to his office. He had paperwork to do that couldn’t wait, and it helped organise his thoughts. He wasn’t productive just sitting there anyway. When his son awoke, someone would come and get him.

“How bad is it?” She asked, not looking up at the prophet.

“I have healed him as best I can,” he said softly. “His bones are healed, but his body needs time. It is likely he may be in pain for the rest of his life. Until he wakes up… I cannot say.”

Eryn balled her fists, reminding herself to breathe and focus on the boy in front of her. She didn’t know what to do; she felt so powerless, so… so full of nothing but worry. What if he hadn’t survived it? Her heart beat fast, a bird trapped within the rafters of a roof, trying desperately to find its way out. Without her telling him that she liked him. She didn’t know if she should still, they still needed to know more about the other, spend actual time together—but—but….

“Talk to him,” Velen urged. 

Eryn nodded. “Can I touch his hand?”

“His bones are healed, I am sure it’s not an issue,” he answered.

Eryn sighed deeply, resting her staff down on the floor and then gently took his hand. It was so cold and so calloused. What had he been doing here for the past six months? She shook her head, smiling at him. “If you wanted my attention you didn’t need to get crushed,” she muttered. “A simple letter would have surficed.” 

Anduin’s face remained still and she sighed. “You need to wake up and tell me about this land,” She carried on, keeping her eyes trained on his face. He looked peaceful, not in pain at all. “I have so much to tell you, too. I was training with Archmage Khadgar. Can you believe it? I say training, but, well… and I made friends with a death knight,” She laughed softly. “And this morning I burned my hand on demon’s blood. It was funny, actually, I was adamant I would be able to do it. My big head and I.”

No response.

Eryn sighed, eyebrows creasing. She felt frustrated, as if there was nothing she could possibly do to even try and help. What good would talking to him even do? “If you don’t wake up-“ she muttered, blinking furiously to stop herself crying. She’d cried too much over so many things. “Then I’m going to find your spirit and yell at you until you go back into your body.”

Velen chuckled softly, finding his own place to sit nearby, on hand if he was needed. Apart from the odd check-up he was doing to keep an eye on the healing, Velen just mostly read or spoke with Varian.Garrosh had to be stopped, but how they were supposed to do it, he had no idea. He heard of this girl, Anduin had mentioned her shortly after the maleficar. Then he’d overheard Varian and Jaina discussing retrieving her and bringing her back; she cared for him a great deal he could see. He watched as she levitated her pack over from where she’d dropped it by the door and then rummaged through it. He waited, curiously, until she took a book out and began to read to him. 

The prophet wondered if the young prince realised how lucky he was to have someone care this much. He could see her trying to push down her feelings, to not let the grief and worry overtake her. She focused entirely on him as she read, holding his hand the entire time. Sometimes she’d pause and give her opinions on the characters or what had happened—Velen would try not to laugh at how she sometimes went off on a tangent. 

It was two hours later when the door opened and Varian reappeared. He looked tired, the draenei noted. Tired of everything. War did that to people; his people knew that better than most. Fighting, conflict—they tested your limits. This was bordering close on the king’s. Velen understood the pain of loosing a son; he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“Eryn,” The king said, watching her. She looked up from her book, eyes first moving to the prince, and then up to his father. She wasn’t used to seeing Varian so casual; of course, she’d seen it a few times while she’d been in Stormwind with Jaina, and then after the maleficar he’d been considerably warmer to her, but this was different. This was more. His eyes trained upon Anduin and he sighed, then looked back at her. “Come get some fresh air.”

She didn’t want to, hadn’t she been away from Anduin too long already? Even asleep he had the most magnificent affect on her, one she craved without realising it. The bliss, the peace. And yet fresh air did sound good, as did sourcing some food. Eryn put her book down next to him, resting it flat down so she wouldn’t lose her place and gently rested his hand on his chest. Then she stood up and straightened out her robes, following obediently after Varian.

He was quiet for the most part, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She’d found that he never felt the need to fill silence with small talk, it was something she quite enjoyed. As outgoing as she tended to be, sometimes she enjoyed the presence of others in silence. And sometimes she just had nothing of importance to talk about. This wasn’t one of those situations, both knew there was a lot to talk about. 

“Did Irina get to the city okay?” she asked as they stepped out into the night air. It was chilly, she noted, and she wished she’d brought her cloak out. Eryn stretched, soothing out her sore muscles from being sat in one place for so long and inspected the bandages around her hand; Khadgar reckoned the burn would scar quite well. It was her own fault; she should have just listened.

“Yes, as did her prisoner,” he chuckled despite the situation. “Here I am wondering about Anduin having such a strange taste in friends-“ she gave him a look and he gave her an apologetic smile. “But you have equally as odd a taste. A death knight. The goblin was locked up in the stockades as per her request. We decided releasing him to the horde was not ideal. Irina counselled us on that matter,” he added, his mouth turning into a grim line. “She was worried he might return to Sylvanas and perfect her plague or whatever.”

Eryn didn’t want to think about it; anything else going wrong… not now- “Was?”

“Yes, was,” Varian said shortly, before letting out a sigh. “The other prisoners heard what he was in there for, he all but bragged about it from what I was told. Turns out there’s certain things which even prisoners will think is too far. They killed him in his sleep. The guards reckoned he wanted to die.”

Eryn said nothing, she felt nothing either. “What happened to Irina?”

“She went to find the other person involved, she’s been back a few times, says she quite likes Stormwind and always asks whether you returned, or not-“ Varian paused his walking and Eryn almost walked into him. “Where did you go? She said you went off to… find answers. You look… better.”

“I feel better,” she said simply, climbing up on some crates to sit down. He simply stood, using the excuse that he’d been sat at the desk most of the day and wanted to stretch his legs. “I was in a bad way,” she added, not needing to elaborate; she’d told him in the letter, absolutely everything. He’d seen her before she’d left too. “I spent the last six months with Archmage Khadgar,” she said, almost laughing at his surprise. The only thing that stopped her was the reminder of the gentle blonde haired boy inside who had almost died. It stopped the laughter in her chest and she swallowed it down like a bad taste. 

“Jaina is on a warpath against the horde,” Varian carried on. 

“And you don’t support it?” she asked, feeling shocked.

“Anduin rubbed off on me,” he answered ruefully. “He is… wise and worth listening to,” he chuckled. “I hold no love for Garrosh, I quite agree he is a problem and needs to be removed. There’s dissent amongst the horde against him too. Jaina, however….” He let out a long-drawn sigh. “That’s something I will deal with later. For now, I am more curious as to how you feel about the horde.”

How did she feel about the horde?

The young mage stared up at the sky, wondering if there were perhaps new constellations from where they were. It was marred with clouds, some plunging them into darkness when they covered the moon. Her stomach growled at her, reminding her of her need for food and Varian chuckled softly. 

“To begin with I hated them. Every single Orc or Goblin I saw… it was their fault. I didn’t care if they weren’t even with the horde, it was their fault. I wanted to do anything to get rid of the anger, kill them all if I had to, take away everything they cared for… but I don’t want to be that. They have good people, just as the alliance has some not so good people-“ she smiled at him. “I think peace is still a noble goal, and I think compassion for any other living creature is an important thing to have, but I think there’s also a time to… set it aside.”

“Anduin would disagree.”

“Anduin is a kind person,” she said quickly. “He cares about everyone. He’s intelligent, but… he hasn’t experienced that kind of loss. He would disagree because he doesn’t understand.”

Varian remained silent. He didn’t disagree with her; it was the truth. Anduin had made friends within the horde, something he quite admired; but despite everything, Anduin had not fully been impacted by the things other people could do. He’d seen horrors, that was true, he’d been through a lot in his short life so far, and he’d lost people, but he hadn’t experienced true loss, true pain, true grief. He believed in the idyllic sort of peace that came from no confrontation, believed everyone could be reasoned with; he believed the best of people, that the horde held the same desire for peace in their hearts that he did. He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, that their idea of peace may not include space for the alliance. Someday, he knew, Anduin would come to understand those things. That not all people had good intentions, and not all people could be made to see the error of their ways. Yet he was in no hurry to change his son’s heart or mind. It would come in time.

“And of Garrosh?” he asked slowly.

Blood pounded in her ears as she tried to calm herself. Garrosh. A monster. Theramore, Anduin—what was next? Stormwind? She sighed deeply, letting herself down from the crate and following him when he motioned her to. She hoped they were going after food. 

“He’s a monster,” she said quietly when they entered another building, one she was pleased to find was full of the smell of some form of stew. She was shocked to find a Pandaren in the kitchens, even more shocked at just how big he was. “G-Garrosh I mean,” she added quickly, hoping she hadn’t insulted him.

“Anduin thought he could reason with him-“ he ran his fingers through his long hair and let out a deep sigh. “That kid. If he gets any idea in his head of talking with him again-“

Eryn shook her head, gratefully taking a bowl of stew with some dumplings. “Make sue you let me beat him up too,” she said, half joking. She didn’t feel so hungry, she wanted to go back—what if she’d been here with him? Could she have stopped him? She doubted it; Anduin was stubborn, headstrong. If he got an idea into his mind he’d do it, even if he had to sneak off to accomplish it. Yet if she had helped him, been at his side—

Perhaps it would just be two injured people instead of one.

“He’ll be okay,” Varian said in a way that Eryn thought he’d been saying it to himself a lot. “I’d just be happier if he opened his eyes.”

There was no reply for that. Eryn just ate her food, enjoying the sounds of the kitchen. There were soldiers coming in and out, servants too. They’d brought so many people here—she wanted to explore this new place, but more than anything she just wanted to return to Anduin’s side. Maybe there was nothing she could do, perhaps reading to him was pathetic and pointless, but….

Varian watched her carefully. She was concentrating, intent on her thoughts as she ate. With her bandaged hand she was absently levitating a salt pot off the table—a habit of hers to help her think? He wanted to laugh, but she seemed so serious and so worried. He wanted to ask, too, how she felt about his son; if she returned his feelings, but it was obvious she did. They were still young, they had plenty of time to figure it out. The idea of his son foolishly tripping over words to woo her seemed quite amusing to him, and yet he wondered if it was perhaps not the other way around. He could imagine Eryn was the shyer of the two in that situation, Anduin often got this confidence when there was something he’d put his mind to, and Varian could imagine him seeing this as the same situation. What was holding her back? That he was a prince? Varian snorted to himself. He could understand that. 

He watched as she took her empty bowl to wash it herself, despite the kitchen staff insisting they do it. She was a kind person, humble. The type of person who didn’t see anyone as less than her, humility was a good trait to have, and probably one that endeared her so much to his son. She would be good for him, help him learn the hard lessons he would have to learn eventually.

But for now, perhaps it was better that they were just two innocent young people, slowly falling in love.

Varian smiled.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to your hand?”

Eryn sighed, unwrapping the bandages and frowning at the burn. She’d put some potions and salve on it shortly after, but it didn’t seem to be getting any better. “I took to killing demons to vent my anger,” she said simply. “I got it in my head that I would somehow be able to find something in them no one else could-“ She snorted. “Khadgar told me it was impossible, and yet I didn’t listen. Demon’s blood burns quite well,” she held up her hand to let him see. 

“You should get Velen to see to that,” he muttered, frowning. “Before it gets infected and you get sick.”

“I’m sure he has more import-“

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he said firmly. “It was an order from your king.”

Eryn froze for a moment, and if it wasn’t for the playful smirk upon his face, she would have been quite scared of him then. Instead she sighed and agreed with a slight laugh.If Varian could believe Anduin would be okay, she could too. The more she started to see this side of the king, the more she could see the similarities between him and Anduin. She knew Anduin felt they were very different people, that he was nothing like his father, but she disagreed. Varian may have been a warrior, a fighter, rather than a priest and a healer, but he was still warm and good. He had the same playful sense of humour, just with years of responsibilities upon his broad shoulders. They looked alike, too, Anduin was only nineteen but she could already see he would grow into the same broad chin and broader shoulders of his father. 

“Was it hard?” she asked quietly, eyes soft, as they walked back upstairs to where Anduin lay sleeping. “Without his mother?”

The king let out a deep sigh. Perhaps he’d tell her the full story another time about Onyxia and his time as a gladiator without his memories. No doubt she knew of some of it from Jaina. Yet he considered her question. Anduin’s situation was one she could relate to; she had no mother, either, and yet she’d also lost her father. While Anduin and he had each other, the closest thing she had to family had been Jaina, and now—

It was no wonder it had destroyed her when Theramore had been attacked; it wasn’t just the loss of her home she mourned, it was the loss of her mentor. Jaina was going down a path Eryn didn’t want to follow, and it had left her lost and confused, unsure of which way to turn. He wished he’d thought about it sooner, seen the situation and helped her earlier—and yet she’d done a good job of fixing it herself. To be so young and already having faced so much—Varian grimaced. His son was going to need the broad Wrynn shoulders to bare it all, and to support her, too. 

“Anduin and I had a… strained relationship,” he said.

“Jaina told me.”

“Of course she did,” he chuckled, pushing the door open for her. She thanked him and glanced at Anduin. He hadn’t moved at all; his hand was still on his chest and her book was on the floor beside him. Velen was seeing to him currently. “I didn’t know how to connect with him. For a time I saw his mother in him… it was difficult for me. I didn’t know how to show the correct emotion to him. But we worked it out. We’re close now.”

Eryn nodded. She’d seen that when they were travelling with Corel; Anduin had been so worried about his father that he’d talked about it in his sleep at times. In some ways she couldn’t understand it; she’d been too young to entirely process losing her father, yes it had hurt, but in a different way it would have now. “You two are very similar, you know,” she pointed out.

“That you think so highly of me is flattering,” he answered. “Unless perhaps you mean the worst of him-“ he laughed. “The stubbornness, the unruly hair, the big chin.”

“I don’t know,” she said lightly. “I quite like the big chin. It must be where you both store all of your charisma.”

He shot her a look but smiled anyway.

Varian found that waiting for his son to wake up was not so bad with a bit of laughter around. There was only so much worrying that could be done, Anduin was alive, he would wake up; Velen had assured him of that multiple times already. Yet he refused to believe it until his sons blue eyes were staring back at him and his voice filled a room again. He watched Eryn sit beside Velen and ask about her hand, her eyes never left Anduin’s face. 

Smiling softly, Varian closed the door and crossed the hall to his makeshift office. Everything would work out.


	2. II: PRINCE ANDUIN LLANE WRYNN

It felt as though the days couldn’t possibly go any more slowly. 

Only two days had passed since Eryn had arrived at Lion’s Landing, but she felt as though it was more. Each day seemed to pass with the length of three. Usually she wouldn’t mind, she’d always said she wished there were more hours in a day; she could learn more, read more, laugh more, and help more people that way. Now she wished the opposite was true. Every morning Eryn awoke before the sun rose up and she would take a walk along the beach to clear her mind and wake herself up. She often spoke to some of the Pandaren on those mornings and found them to be the most fascinating people; Anduin didn’t need to be awake for her to know he would be fond of them. They were good people, she felt awful that they were so caught up in this conflict.

After her walk she would return for breakfast. She’d then check in on Anduin where she would spend a lot of her morning, either reading to him, or doing her own study. After lunch, she would aid Varian or Velen with anything they needed doing. She wanted to be busy, she explained to them, and they both had a lot to do; she could lighten the load. It turned out there wasn’t much she could do for either of them. She brought Velen hot tea whenever she went to get her own. She’d caught Varian falling asleep late the second night and told him to rest, he countered that she needed sleep too, but she’d just grinned at him. On the third evening, she took to eating dinner next to Anduin, hoping that any day he would open his eyes.

They still had no idea what they planned to do about Garrosh, but the morning of the fourth day, Eryn felt as though things started to fall into place. She’d been on her way back from breakfast when she noticed the tauren at the gates, alone. She did not recognise him, but he was already talking with Varian. Talking, she noticed, not arguing. Upon feeling her eyes on him, Varian turned to her, and motioned her other. Eryn wrung her hands nervously, eyes darting to his face, and then to the taurens as she greeted him. “Ah, the champion of Thunder Bluff.”

“You don’t seriously call me that?” she asked quickly, feeling nervous and sick. She was unworthy of that title; Corel and Anduin had done all the hard work. 

“This is Sunwalker Dezco,” Varian said. His voice was strained, yet not aggressive. “He is a friend of Anduin’s.”

Of course he was, she thought.

“I heard what happened—yet I am relieved to find he is alive.”

“Your warchief will-“

Dezco shook his head. “He is no warchief of ours, your majesty,” he cut off. “But I did not come here to debate that. I simply wished to pass on my regards and to extend an offer of aid should you ever need it.”

The tauren’s words hung thick in the air and neither Eryn nor Varian disturbed them. Dezco responded with a small chuckle and bowed his head in greeting before leaving. The two remained silent as they headed upstairs. Varian was considering his offer, while Eryn remembered how Baine had given Jaina warning of the attack upon Theramore. She wondered why they stayed with the horde; Baine’s father had been close with Thrall, right? But Thrall was no longer warchief, and Cairne was dead. They were honourable peoples, they’d treated them with nothing but kindness during their stay in Thunder Bluff, and now it seemed they were willing to fight against Garrosh should they ever take the fight to him. 

Upon entering the room all of Eryn’s thoughts stopped. Thoughts of Garrosh and the Tauren could wait, because Anduin was sitting up, and his blue eyes were open. 

Varian inhaled, taking only a few long strides to his son’s side. He took Anduin’s hand, relief visible all over his face, before he pulled him, gently, into a hug. She could tell Anduin’s face would be full of surprise, full of shock, and yet full of warmth. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see, positive it would undo her self-control. He was awake; Anduin was okay. She felt like a fool, just stood absently in the door way, but she didn’t want to intrude upon this moment, she had no right to—

Yet when Varian pulled away from his son and motioned her over she couldn’t stop her feet. She wanted to tell him no, that she was undeserving of being included in this, that she could greet him later, but—but Anduin’s eyes were full of warmth, his smile gentle, her favourite smile in the whole world. Oh, how she’d missed him. Her heart hiccupped, and she knelt beside him, before suddenly, hugging him tightly too. She felt him freeze up, but she didn’t care. Didn’t care he could hear her heart beating like mad, she didn’t care at all. “You absolute-“ she breathed out. “Do you have any idea how worried I- we were?”

Eryn pulled back and stared at him. His cheeks were slightly pink, but she was more concerned with any pain he was in. He, however, seemed okay. She knew between her and Varian, that Anduin was not going to be able to do much until they were both satisfied, hell, if she had her way she’d pad him out in armour for at least another five years. 

“You were worried?” he asked, giving her a cheeky grin. “You came all the way here because you were worried?”

“O-of course I was,” she breathed out. “Anduin, you almost died!”

“I didn’t.”

Varian snorted. “I’d drop that real fast,” he said. “After she’s done with you, I want your ear. And I sure as hell won’t be the last one. You’re going to get real tired of saying ‘but I didn’t die’ over and over.”

The three of them laughed and Velen watched softly. They’d come so far, the king and his son, from when he’d first encountered them. Time and a bit of effort, a bit of understanding on both parts, truly did wonders. He wanted the fighting to cease, he wanted them to have as much precious time together as possible, yet he knew it was fruitless to hope so much. The laughter paused when Anduin’s stomach rumbled. He blushed deeply.

“I’ll get you something,” Eryn said, standing up in one graceful motion. Anduin didn’t want her to go, scared she wouldn’t come back. He didn’t know when she would leave again, he wanted to spend time with her, as much as he could, before she announced loudly she was going--… where? What had she been doing? She seemed… so different. Like herself but happier, fuller? He wasn’t sure how to describe it. There was something there that reminded him of his father, a sort of world weariness that couldn’t ever be lifted from their shoulders. It had always suited his father, he felt, maybe because it came with age. But Eryn was his age, younger even, she should not be so burdened already. And yet it seemed to become her. “I’ll be back,” she said when she noticed his frown. 

Varian snorted again. “She’s just going so she can get extra food.”

Eryn stuck her tongue out childishly yet did not deny it. Truthfully, she was just happy, she suddenly had a new course of energy in her body and she would rather the happiness, the relief, that it came out like this rather than random bouts of tears.

Anduin watched her go and frowned. “How long have I been…?”

“Almost a week,” Varian muttered, his eyes looking over his son’s form. “Are you in pain?”

“No.”

“Truthfully.”

“A little,” Anduin answered sheepishly. “But it’s nothing. How is she here? When is she… leaving?” 

There was silence at first. Velen excused himself; now Anduin was awake, there was no need for him to linger. He had to return home and take care of his people again, he would stay just a while but the Pandaren were master healers too, and he felt confident in leaving the young priest in their care. Varian was more concerned how to answer; he knew how his son felt about the mage, yet it seemed so long apart had done little to curb those feelings, if anything he seemed even more enamoured. If she left again it was going to hurt him—he felt a pang towards her. He did not wish to lock her up, he knew Anduin would not wish for that either, yet right now he wanted to give him everything.

“Jaina found her afew days ago and sent her here,” he said at length. “She was studying with Khadgar in the blasted lands. I don’t know if she’s returning, she hasn’t mentioned it.”

Anduin nodded, closing his eyes. He was trying to remember everything, and also trying to prepare himself for his father’s fury. Right now, he was calm, relaxed, the relief, but once it wore off, he knew his father would be angry beyond measure. He knew how much he feared losing him, Anduin understood that fear. “How could you just run off like that?” Varian asked, his voice low and calm. Anduin didn’t like this calm fury, it unsettled him more than the loud anger.

“I wanted to reason with him.”

The king let out a frustrated sigh. “Not everyone can be reasoned with, Anduin.”

“I had to try. I still believe he can be reasoned with,” the prince replied firmly, squaring his shoulders back to make himself seem more confident. “I won’t stop trying to understand and get through to him.”

Varian had to stop himself from getting angry, from balling his fists and yelling—how could he say that? Anduin—he was all he had left in the world; didn’t he know that? He wasn’t going to let him be put in danger again, and yet he couldn’t lose his temper. He was just… scared, not an emotion which struck him often, but if there was one thing in the world he couldn’t lose, it was Anduin. It would destroy him, of course, if his city, if his people, were all decimated by Garrosh and his horde, but if Anduin was there at least he felt he had something to fight for. Without his son’s brightness what point was there in a better future?

Luckily he was saved when the door opened, and Eryn came back in, with a tray of a few foods. She took in the scene and paused, before quietly sitting beside Anduin. “This stew is really good,” she said happily, trying to avoid their eyes. It seemed like they’d been fighting, or at least, were about to—and indeed, Varian just stood and left without a word. Anduin sat there, gripping his bed covers tightly, staring down into his lap.

“I thought he understood me.”

Eryn sighed. “Anduin, please eat.”

“I’m not-“

“Hungry?” she stared at him. “Then I will eat it.” She shrugged but put the tray on his lap anyway. “Eat.”

He gave her a grateful smile, one tinged with an apology for his small outburst. Still, that his father had gotten angry all because he wanted to understand Garrosh. He sulked as he ate.

“Honestly,” she muttered. “The food is better than that.”

“I just-“

“Anduin… do you know how scared he’s been?” She shook her head, glancing to where the king had gone.“He’s scared to lose you.”

He didn’t reply, he just ate. He wanted to ask if she’d been scared, too, but he also didn’t want to argue at all. He didn’t even want to think about Garrosh and the horde, just for a bit, he wanted to focus on something else. “You cut your hair,” he blurted out between mouthfuls. “It’s nice… when did you do that?”

“A few months ago,” she said quietly, cheeks a soft pink at his compliment. “It got in the way while I was taking my anger out on demons. Archmage Khadgar almost did it himself because it kept getting grabbed.”

“What?” he inhaled. Demons? Khadgar? “What happened after I left?”

Where did she even begin? Eryn rubbed her hands, feeling somewhat cold, and used her magic to close a window nearby. Anduin watched, happy that she seemed so free in using it again. What happened to her? 

“I went to Stratholme. I thought maybe there would be something there, but…” she sighed, closing her eyes as she remembered the undead, the fire—the anger upon finding the necromancer, and the disgust she felt at herself months after when she realised what she’s done. “I met a death knight while there, she was hunting a necromancer.”

“Why do you always get into trouble?” he sighed deeply.

Eryn snorted. “Speak for yourself, mister I’ll shatter every single bone in my body.” He gave her an impish smile which she returned slyly. Joking about it helped, he could have died, but he didn’t. He was alive, laughing with her. That was what she had to focus on. “Alchos spoke to me… he led me to Karazhan. I thought perhaps there would be a book within the guardian’s library that would help, but it was sealed with no way in. I met Khadgar outside, even if it wasn’t what Alchos intended, I demanded he teach me.”

“And the demons…?”

She laughed. “He keeps a vigil over the portal. The burning legion was never truly defeated in the past, Khadgar knows they will be back.” She heard everything he had to say about them, how fearsome, how terrible the legion seemed. “It’s just a matter of when.”

“And they will use the portal,” Anduin breathed.

“Perhaps,” she muttered. “They have other ways, too. But the portal is the only one he can keep an eye on for now. I think it makes him feel better.” She hated admitting she’d grown fond of the old man, but she missed his company; his lame jokes, his stories, his knowledge. “The blasted lands are still covered in demons, he suggested I take my anger towards the horde out on them. It helped.”

“I can see that,” he murmured, putting the tray to one side with the empty bowl. He looked at her. She’d gained some weight, back to how she’d been when he first met her. Her cheeks and skin had colour to it—she seemed taller somehow. She looked the same, just with shorter hair. 

“So?” she asked, leaning forward. He breathed in deeply; she smelled like the sea air, like tea leaves, vaguely like blueberries and mint, like old books, and candles which had burned too low. His favourite things. “Tell me about what you did while here. Your father said you learned a lot here. I want to go and explore—you’ll have to show me around.”

He wanted to indulge her curiosity, to divulge all the secrets and hidden places he’d found, but all Anduin did was fist his blanket up. She was here, and he was happy for it, yet each time it got more and more difficult to say goodbye. He didn’t want to say it this time, he’d do anything to get her to stay with him, but he knew it would be wrong. He just… wanted to know how long they had, and then how long it would be before they could properly be together. Would she leave in two days and return a year later? Perhaps she’d leave in a week and return only a month later. There was a chance she’d never return at all, it was a chance which he didn’t like too much.

“When are you leaving?” he asked quietly. He didn’t want to get attached if she was leaving soon.

Eryn blinked. He looked so—angry? Sad? Distant? She wasn’t sure which, but… he was hurt, wasn’t he? She sighed softly, putting her hand on top of his. She wanted to open her mouth, to tell him she had barely left his side, but words failed her. He was better off being angry at her, finding someone else, even if it would hurt her deeply to see him with someone better suited for him. She wanted to be selfish, to lean forward and kiss him—

“Forget it,” he said, smiling. If he only had a short time, he didn’t want it to be spent being upset with her. He couldn’t keep her locked up, it would be cruel to. She had her own life, if he liked her half as much as he thought, he had to let her be free. “My journal is on my desk,” he said, motioning to it. “I wrote down everything. Could you get it, please?”

Eryn wanted to reassure him, to talk about her leaving but she found it was better to drop it. She didn’t know when she was going, or where she was. Would she return to Khadgar? Or perhaps she’d just go and venture into the world. Maybe she would return to Dalaran, continue studying demons so that she could be prepared of the legion ever returned in her life time—and yet… none of that was as appealing as spending days in the sun with him, talking and laughing about nothing. When had she become this girl? He would always support her pursuit of knowledge, she knew that, if she asked for a bigger library, he wouldn’t think twice about it. She knew that. If she wanted to spend time in Dalaran learning, he’d respect it and let her go, she knew that, too. But there would be a time in the future where she couldn’t do that. She’d have to choose between being with him or being in the world. He would say, she knew, that if she wanted to be with him but still help people, or still travel, she could. But that wasn’t feasible, she knew that. Not forever. 

Books and knowledge were the two things she’d always had, and the two things she thought she’d always have. She’d always thought she would end up marrying her favourite book, her children would be her own personal library full of tomes she’d written herself on numerous things she’d studied. It hadn’t been a dream, she didn’t really have a ‘dream’ as such, but it had been the future she’d accepted for herself, the one she’d already decided was reality. And now, there was a different one. When had spending time with him become preferable to having her nose in a book? 

Eryn knew right then that she was never going to be able to let him go.

Even if she succeeded in pushing him towards another woman, she would always care for him. How could she not? He’d changed her and affected her in such an intrinsic way that she was sure there was no going back. 

Anduin was staring at her, unsure of the thoughts going through her mind as she absently levitated the journal over, but took it and flicked to the first page, offering it to her. “My old one got ruined in the shipwreck,” he said. “But after the rest of the alliance arrived I got a new one. I’ve been writing down everything I can remember, and everything new since then. This place,” he breathed, running his fingers through his hair. It was getting long again. “It’s incredible.” She flicked through the journal, and started to read instantly; he watched her as she did.

Did she realise how captivated he was by her? He’d tried to think a lot about why it was, yet he couldn’t pin down a reason why it was her. Of course, there were multiple things he liked; her heart, her intelligence, her spirit, the way she smelled, the little crinkles above her nose, how excited she could get over things she really cared for. But other people had those qualities, too, maybe not all at once, but he’d never been so interested in them. Tess was kind, she had a good spirit; yet he thought of her as a distant friend and little else. Tess’ friend Lorna was more spirited and intelligent and good looking, and yet it wasn’t her either. There had been noble girls whose mothers had pushed them into trying to catch his eye, a few of them he’d thought had good hearts but he wasn’t interested in them, and a few had even said they only approached him because of their parents, they had their eyes on someone else. A few of them had a good whit too, he enjoyed talking with those ones, but….

But nothing had clicked.

His lips did not involuntarily turn up into a smile when he saw them, his heart did not fly above the clouds, his mind did not turn into a hazy mess. It was only Eryn who did that. Only she who made him worry so much, made him scared that he would be alone. He liked her, and he knew she liked him, but what if, some day, she stopped liking him? What if he grew up into a person she did not like, mentally or even physically? Come to think of it, he had no clue how she felt about the way he looked, and he found himself suddenly self-conscious about it. He didn’t think there would be a future where his heart did not pine for her, every moment he spent with her he found himself liking her more and more—there had to be a point where it stopped, right? A point where his heart couldn’t possibly fill up anymore in fear it may burst?

He was young, he knew that, they both were, yet it was not uncommon for people their age to at least be betrothed. What if she didn’t want that? A husband, a family? He’d never given it much thought before, and yet now—

Now here she was, her tongue sticking out slightly, stuck between her teeth in concentration as she read his journal. She commented here and there, and he watched as she levitated the book, so she could free her hands to rub together. She did that when she concentrated, too, he knew. Anduin couldn’t help himself, he reached out and put his hand on top of hers. Everything told him to stop, they were supposed to be going as friends—and yet—

And yet—

“Eryn,” he breathed, staring up at her with his blue eyes. He saw her so clearly, what if some other man did, too? What if they snatched her away? What if they were more than him? “I-… I’m really glad you’re here,” he whispered.

Her lilac eyes focused on him for a few moments, before she held his hand back. She said nothing, instead went back to reading, but that she did not separate their hands meant a lot to him. Whether she was doing it because he was injured or not, he had no idea, but—

But Anduin was happy despite everything else.

A little while later, after they’d both been absorbed in their own books and enjoying the peace and quiet, Varian returned to the room. Eryn pasued from his journal and peered up at the king, noting that he looked a lot calmer and more relaxed. Varian’s eyes brushed over their hands and she dropped her gaze but did not release it. She couldn’t explain the sudden fear that Anduin would vanish from the world, the anxiety which was entirely unfounded that he would just… float away if she did not hold onto him. Or, perhaps, it was the other way around. Perhaps she would float away without him. She’d forgotten how it was with him, so bright, like the darkness within her didn’t exist, like the darkness of her world was reduced to shadows of little mice, rather than forests full of trees and wolves with little light filtering through the boughs. He changed… everything. 

Suddenly she felt quite hot, as though all the air had left the room. Her chest felt tight. She couldn’t say what it was, but she withdrew her hand quickly and stood up. She needed to get outside, to see the open sky and feel the cold air on her skin. To breathe in the sea air, to dip her toes in the warm water. The prince watched her curiously as she rushed off with no explanation, his hand outstretched towards her.

“What was that?” Varian asked.

“I… no idea,” the prince replied, staring after her. “Maybe she remembered something?” he suggested.

Varian frowned. He did not think it was that at all, so he said nothing. “Velen will be leaving soon,” he said quietly, taking a seat by the window. “I will be returning to Stormwind myself soon. Genn is holding down the fort, but….”

“But you have the duties of a king,” Anduin finished for him. “I know.” He was silent for a time, and then he sighed, putting his book down. “Do you think I am… unattractive?”

Confusion overcame Varian quickly; since when had he thought that? But then—he remembered himself, younger, when he’d begun to like Tiffin and suddenly he wasn’t so sure he was good enough for her. “Are you worried about my opinion or someone else’s?”

Anduin blushed deeply and looked down at his lap. “I just—I mean—I like how she looks but… it occurred to me that… maybe she doesn’t think the same.”

The king ran his fingers through his hair and heaved a huge sigh. “While you were sleeping she barely left you, she read to you mostly and held your hand. Anduin, I don’t think the issue is that she doesn’t like you.” In fact, he thought, maybe the issue was she liked him too much and didn’t know how to process it. Of course, he thought, girls would usually talk to their parents about this, but who did she have? And Jaina—could he get her to talk to Eryn? He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not. They’d fix their relationship in time, they just needed to get to know one another again, adjust to everything which had happened.

No, he supposed he should talk to her. He wasn’t sure how it would work, he wasn’t too good at the whole ‘father’ thing with Anduin at times, or so he felt. Things were better now, but it had taken a long time. In another life he wondered if Anduin would have siblings, what kind of a big brother he would be—his eyes softened as he watched his son. He deserved happiness, in a world full of so much unkindness it seemed almost too much to ask, that his son would be happy, and yet he was going to make it so. 

He let his son to read and followed Eryn, asking a few workers on the way which direction she’d gone. There was a gentle breeze outside, bringing with it the tell-tale sign of the sea air as he walked along the beach to find her. She was sat at the surf, her boots off and her trousers rolled up. If she stayed there much longer she’d probably get soaked through, yet—

Varian sat beside her, taking his own boots off, and thankful that he wore leathers and not armour that day. It was calm here, no sounds of fighting, no sounds of the workmen. Just a soft wind which picked up his hair and played with it. He didn’t know how to talk to her; should he be direct?

She looked so small. Her knees up to her chest, her chin on top of them. 

“You like him,” he stated simply. “I get it.”

Eryn sighed and closed her eyes. “We are still young.”

“Not that young,” he pointed out. “What’s bothering you?”

Eryn glanced up at him, before she returned her gaze to some point on the horizon that neither of them could see. She was imagining what was there, some undiscovered place? Or was it home? Perhaps it was where Theramore used to stand. “For a moment in there I felt like I might just… float away without him,” she murmured. “It scared me. It was… so intense. I haven’t seen him for six months, yet I thought about him every day. What was he doing, was he okay, then if I found something I thought about telling him first—it was a little annoying,” she gave him a small smile. “I started writing down everything I wanted to tell him into a diary, but I felt so stupid doing it. I’m not… that girl… the one who puts on pretty dresses and attends pretty balls to woo pretty boys.”

“He doesn’t expect you to be that.”

“I know,” she replied. “Anduin see’s me clearly than I see myself, I think. It… is a little unsettling, to have someone know me so well despite me not really having spent so much time with them,” she put her hands beside her, digging her fingers into the sand. “It is not… unpleasant, though. But if something happens to him, or--- I don’t know….”

Varian wasn’t sure he fully understood, and yet at the same time he did. She liked the freedom she had. After so many years of being kept away from people, she was able to do what she wanted and be friends with whom she wanted. Anduin wouldn’t expect her to stay in Stormwind, but he knew it would be expected of her some time in the future. Was that what she feared? And yet—“You should tell him how you feel.”

“I can’t,” she said quickly. “I just… I don’t want to run away from him, Varian, he’s the only good thing in my life—but I’m terrified of all of this… I want it to… slow down so I can just process it properly.” Eryn sighed, not entirely sure what she was even feeling. “Besides, I’m always hoping he’s going to give up.”

“Why?” he frowned. “He’s not going to, you know. He even asked me if he looks okay—” he snorted. “I should have told him you like the chin.”

Eryn smiled, laughing softly. She was thankful for the joke to break the serious air to their conversation, and she was glad he did not seem mad at her. “I’m not right for him. He deserves someone… more.”

“More what?”

“More beautiful, kinder, smarter. I don’t know—just more. I’m not… complete, something in me changed.”

“You went through a lot of grief,” he pointed out. “And you became stronger for it. You could have given up at any time, yet here you are.”

“Yet here I am.”

They were both silent. He wasn’t sure he’d helped at all, but it was good to know how she felt. Perhaps, given a little more time, when they were back in Stormwind, she’d be able to adjust better. After all, this was quite sudden; everything had happened so quickly, one moment she was with Khadgar, the next she was here, reading to his broken body as he healed. Now she was sat in the surf, looking like she’d worked hard on building a raft to escape, and then decided last moment she didn’t actually want to go, and so she was now watching her hard work sail off alone from her. 

“He won’t give up,” he said again, pushing himself to his feet with a groan. He was starting to feel older in his bones, his age was catching up on him, all the years of fighting, of leading—it was a big burden, one which needed broad shoulders to bare. He had confidence in his son, but he was going to need support, someone just as strong, someone who could advise him well, and someone who could take his hand, just a short time, while he wasn’t sure of the path he should be going. Someone to clear his doubts, someone to ease the guilt when choices he made resulted in deaths of his own people. Varian let out a deep sigh and brushed the sand off his trousers. “He sees you clearly, he knows who you are, even the things you try and hide from him. He knows all that, but he still wants you. Maybe you should trust his judgement.”

She wanted to joke about how that boy, that sweet and foolish boy, seldom knew what was best for him. He made friends with all the strangest types of people, even tried to see the good in a monster who couldn’t be reasoned with. She wanted to point out where that had gotten him, but her words died, unspoken on her tongue. Varian took her silence as an answer and left her alone. She’d come around, he hoped, she just needed to adjust in whichever way she did that. Love wasn’t the type of thing you could learn from a book, just like grief, it was an emotion that demanded to be felt, one which could only be truly understood by letting it overtake you; and even then, understanding it was a stretch. If anyone could make her relax, make her accept those feelings, Varian was confident it was Anduin.


	3. III: DAWN AND DUSK

To say the atmosphere in the room was tense would have been an understatement. Three people sat around a table; two opposite each other, and the third to the side between them, staring curiously and apprehensively at the dark skinned boy who identified himself as Wrathion. A black dragon. Anduin, too, matched Eryn’s gaze of suspicion with his own, he had not forgotten what Onyxia had done, what Deathwing had done, yet Anduin knew that, so far, this one had not given them any reason to distrust him. Simply being a black dragon was not reason enough to ignore his existence.

Even if that was what Eryn felt.

She did not trust him, nor did she like his presence, especially not near Anduin, and especially not when Jaina and Varian were nowhere close. He was polite despite the hostility, but it only seemed to make her dislike him more. He could not be trusted. Eryn clenched her fists tightly on her lap under the table. The two were playing a board game, talking about something she’d long since drowned out with thoughts of whether she should get Dezco and take Anduin somewhere else. 

Varian had returned to Stormwind, and Jaina had gone with the Kirin’Tor to stop the rise of the Thunder King. Anduin had, insisted, he stay behind in Pandaria. Varian had almost not allowed it, until Eryn assured him she would keep him safe, and she reminded him of Dezco’s offer. And so, it was the three of them had travelled some of Pandaria in a way which made her reminiscent of their time with Corel and her heart panged. She missed him.

But now they had found this hidden tavern, and Anduin had admitted somewhat reluctantly, that his body was still in some form of pain. So now they lingered there, waiting for the pain to ease so they could go elsewhere. The worst part of it all, was that slowly Anduin seemed to be befriending the strange dragon. Eryn disliked it, sticking her tongue in her cheek and often glaring at Anduin as much, with her arms folded across her chest. To stay Wrathion had made their friendship strained was too simple, Anduin was as curious as he was distrustful, yet the pureness of him wanted to trust that he had good in him. It was possible, she supposed, and yet—

Yet he didn’t like that she wanted to leave as soon as possible. They had argued about it, gently, and since she’d barely said two words to him. She was always there, very unwilling to leave them alone together, yet she spoke nothing at all. She hated it. Anduin hated it, too. He understood how she felt, yet—

He wanted to make more friendships. She would go again at some point and he wasn’t sure he could handle it this time. It scared him, yet he could not ask her to stay with him; it would be selfish and cruel. So he focused on Wrathion, on forming a friendship he might need when she was gone, and if she didn’t come back. He didn’t want to think that way, he wanted to believe she’d always return to him—but…

While resting at Lion’s Landing, Anduin had watched a small bluebird fly to and from a nest every day. Where he or she was going to he didn’t know, but it would always return after a few hours. Then, one day, Anduin waited but the bird didn’t come back. He watched the nest for two days before he realised it had just… moved on. He didn’t like fighting with her. He turned to her, but her face was firmly on the dragon, her eyes narrowed in dislike. So, instead, he slid his hand under the table to rest on top of hers; a peace offering.

Eryn moved her hand from his sharply and stood up in the same motion. Anduin’s hand remained stretched out to where it had been, and he remained there, even after the door had closed behind her. 

“I did not realise you two were… together,” Wrathion said, looking amused at the situation.

“We’re not,” Anduin replied, flexing his fingers and returning his hands to the table.

“But you have feelings for her.”

The young prince blushed. “Is it that obvious?”

“You look at her every few minutes, you are both hurt by any arguing you have undertaken since arriving in this tavern, she stays close to you because she is worried, and yet both of you have too much pride to talk about it,” Wrathion said, moving his game piece.

“And you can tell all that so easily?” Anduin muttered, wondering if he’d been spying on them. 

Wrathion gave him a bemused grin. “You are not so subtle, Anduin,” he replied. 

“You can read Eryn so easily?”

“No,” Wrathion said quickly, though Anduin felt as though some of it was a lie. Eryn was hard to read, but Wrathion seemed to have a good grasp on people. Maybe it was just part of being a black dragon; that way they could more easily manipulate others. Wrathion laughed at his disbelief. “My dear boy, she has been charging spells the moment she found out I was a black dragon, she is ready to attack me should I hurt you. Either she is your bodyguard, or she cares for you—and since neither of you have spoken, I’m going to assume she’s fuelled by her emotions.”

Anduin didn’t want to admit it was a good deduction so he simply grunted in response, pouring himself some more wine. He’d hated the stuff, but recently he’d grown fond of it. He wasn’t sure how or why, perhaps it made him feel older, more ready for the world in which he… really wasn’t ready for. Ignorant he may be, but he was not so stupid as to assume he knew everything. His blue eyes stared after her, feeling his heart swell and beat weakly.

“I’m scared she won’t come back,” he admitted. “One day she will leave.”

“So, ask her to stay.”

Anduin’s head snapped to stare at his game partner and he gulped down deeply. “I-I cannot… ask that of her. It would be selfish to even think of it.”

“You want her to stay,” Wrathion said. “Ask it of her. It is not selfish,” he paused, humming in thought and bringing his hand to rub his chin for a moment. “You are a giving person, Anduin, you give without little thought for yourself.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because it is clear in your actions, and because you confirmed as such when you dismissed my suggestion as selfish,” he chuckled, closing his eyes to form his sentence perfectly. “It is okay to ask something for yourself ever once in a while.”

“She would be miserable…” Anduin whispered, eyes dropping to the table. “I could never ask it of her. I couldn’t make her unhappy like that. I couldn’t put her in a cage.”

“And yet letting her go makes you unhappy,” the dragon pointed out. Why were humans so confusing? They weren’t even together and yet—part of him regretted even bringing it up, and yet something about seeing the young prince so upset by this stirred something within him that made him want to help. “Ask her to stay, if she is miserable then perhaps it is not meant to be. The only way you know is by trying.”

Anduin didn’t reply; he didn’t know how to. What he’d said was true, but—

He should snap out of this melancholia, or whatever it was, he knew that. 

Perhaps it was time to return home. He liked Pandaria, he wanted to help cleanse it, but maybe he just needed time home. To remind himself of everything. Yet here… he felt so free. For a moment he debated slipping off from Eryn and Dezco, not going back at all. Yet he knew his father would track him down, everyone would be angry—they didn’t care how he felt.

No. He should not think like that. Plenty of people cared how he felt, he just often pretended to be okay with everything that was going on. When had he lost so much control of his life? It was as if he’d let go of the control, and someone else had taken over instead. Every choice was out of his hands. He wanted to do something himself. 

Anduin stood up, excusing himself from Wrathion, and headed outside. 

Eryn was nowhere to be seen, but Dezco was enjoying the peace outside. The tauren looked up as the young prince exited the tavern, his ears flicked, and then he returned his gaze to some far off point. He was sat at the edge of a rock which jutted out, he could see for miles. 

“She’s walking down the stairs,” Dezco said simply. “Or rather running up and down them.”

Anduin raised his eyebrows but followed his gaze. He could see her head moving, the distinct glow of her staff. She did not like black dragons, perhaps this was her way of working off the frustration to strangle Wrathion. “Did she say anything?”

Dezo looked at him carefully. “Only that she really wanted to drag you away from this place,” he chuckled. 

“She should give him a chance.”

The tauren hummed lowly. “You gave Garrosh a chance and look where it got you. Perhaps she is anxious the same is going to happen, Anduin. You will be king in the future, your death would destroy a lot of people, and a lot of people would want it to happen. It is natural to want to put the ones we care for into all forms of protection.”

He hadn’t thought about it that way; that she was just worried Wrathion would set upon him. He supposed he should have been worried about it, too, and while it was true he was apprehensive about the dragon, so far he found he quite liked him. He didn’t trust him, in fact being in the room alone with him had unnerved him, but that didn’t mean Wrathion couldn’t earn his trust. 

Andun was content to enjoy the fresh air for most of the afternoon. He wrote more in his journal, looking up every time Eryn reached the top again, panting heavily. She never spoke, just carried on running. He wondered when she would stop, she was going to exhaust herself—

Eventually, when he noticed the fatigue in her body, he slammed his book shut. “Stop,” he said, staring at her firmly. “You’ll collapse.”

“It helps,” she snapped, and then looked remorseful. “I’m sorry. He just puts me on edge.”

Anduin smiled warmly at her and held out his hand. “I know somewhere we could go, just the two of us. A place I found a few weeks ago, it reminded me of you.”

“Oh?”

The prince grinned more when she took his hand. It sent tingles through his skin, and it took all his control to not link his fingers with hers. It always felt better when she was right next to him, when he could take in her scent, feel her warmth, or her skin on his. It reminded him that she was there, that she existed in that moment. Was it normal, he wondered, to be so consumed by another person? He liked her, but it was more than that. It was the stuffy feeling in his chest, the way he just wanted to compliment her, or how he always wanted to make her laugh. 

“We should head back to Lion’s Landing first,” he said quietly. “We can walk the rest of the way.”

She looked him up and down and frowned. “How is your leg? And back?”

“It will be fine.”

“Anduin—” she frowned more. “Please don’t push yourself.” But she drew up the portal anyway.

He spoke very little as they walked, instead he was just content to watch her pick flowers and herbs and put them into her pack to study later. He suggested at one point, that they find a native who could tell her about the properties of each plant and flower, and he practically beamed when her face lit up with the promise of new knowledge. 

Anduin wanted to tell her how he felt. That it was more than like, that the more he was with her, the stronger he felt. In fact the more he was away from her—absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all. And yet still, he’d have thought it would have stopped or at least lessened the yearning to be with her. It hadn’t. He doubted anything could stop it. Did she know? How utterly he was under her spell?

Yet he kept his feelings to himself and they carried on walking. He would watch her carefully, taking in the grace with which she moved, deciding that it was possibly one of the most beautiful things he’d seen.

“We haven’t played our question game in a while,” he said loudly, his voice clear in the still of the forest. “We can even ask old questions… the answers might have changed.”

Eryn glanced at him, her eyes shining with a curiosity. They had so much to talk about since they’d last played. And yet—no. No she didn’t feel anxious about it; there wasn’t a single thing she wanted to hide from him, even if it made him think less of her. If he would be disappointed in her reaction to the goblin, if her anger upset him… it would hurt her, yes, but… she wanted to be honest with him. Maybe when he understood her truly, he’d realise he was putting his emotions into the wrong person. 

“Favourite time of day,” she said loudly.

“Dawn,” he answered instantly. “I love the sunrise, it feels… promising, somehow. New. I like to wake up early and watch the sunrise over Stormwind, it’s so peaceful then.”

She smiled at him, deciding the answer suited him. “I like dusk,” she countered. “The stars are coming out, and it signals the end of a day. Every mistake you made that day is now in the past.”

Anduin glanced at her, wondering what mistakes she made each day she wanted to leave in the past. Yet, he did not feel it right to ask her that; maybe she would regret too much, or maybe he wouldn’t like the answer. His stomach churned. “If you weren’t a mage, what would you have liked to have been instead?”

“Good question,” she said, stopping her walking to think. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“Really?” 

Eryn shrugged. “I had no choice in the matter so I didn’t see the point in it.”

“I have no say in being a prince but I still often think of the other things I’d like to be,” he chuckled. “Though I think of myself as a priest first.”

“It suits you,” she answered. “Being a priest. It wouldn’t suit me,” she frowned. “I am quick to anger, hot headed, and I act before I think. I find it difficult to comfort people, instead I try and solve problems with tough love these days.”

“I think you’d be a good priest,” he said quietly. “You’re warm, you care, and you enjoy helping people.”

The mage sighed softly, not sure if he was being kind or truthful. “If I wasn’t a mage… I wonder where I’d be,” she thought loudly. “I wonder if my father and I would have become mindless undead.”

Suddenly, Anduin did not much want the answer to his question. The idea of her becoming that—he gulped down, clenching his fists to try and retain some control. Why did he have to panic over her safety so much? 

“I’d like to have become a rogue,” she said, smiling fondly. “Pained always tried to train me like that.I wasn’t very good at it, but I enjoyed it, and Master Shaw always seems to have his hands in many different, but very interesting plans.”

He chuckled, feeling himself calm down. Anduin imagined it; in another life perhaps she would have been a member of SI:7, maybe one of his bodyguards. Yet he still imagined he’d fall for her then, too. She would be the same person, just as warm, just as soft. “I’d like to be a hunter,” he said slowly. “And travel around. I like the bow anyway, it suits me more than a sword.”

Silence set in. She asked a few more questions, he did, too. Simple things; what was his favourite place he’d found in Pandaria? He’d countered it with what place she’d been the past few months that she liked best. He asked her what quality she respected most in another human; she’d tied it with intelligence and compassion and pointed out that he had both. Her cheeks had been beet red with her answer, and his face had, too. He answered that he respected the same, yet he would also add honour to the list. He also pointed out that she had those qualities, and then they’d fallen into another silence with him leading the way to the destination.

Nayeli lagoon was a beautiful part of Karasang. Anduin had been reminded of Eryn when he’d first seen it, known she would like it here best of all the places. He watched her gently, her eyes shining in the dark, the moonlight making her seem brighter than anything else. He knew her well, better than most people would think. She would say she wanted a large library, that she would be happiest there, but he knew it wasn’t true. Maybe she didn’t realise it, but this was the type of place she’d be happiest.

Peaceful, calm, still. The thick scent of sea air on every breeze that picked up her hair and played with it. Her cloak ruffled behind her, and he watched as she pulled it off along with her shoes and rolled up her pants to wade into the water.

She was beautiful.

Eryn turned to him, curious as to why he’d stopped walking, and concern rose within her as she took in his frozen form. He was just stood there. “Anduin?” she asked softly, walking back across the beach towards him. “Are you in pain?”

He couldn’t stop himself, he knew he shouldn’t, he knew he should do anything else at all, but—but he kissed her. It was soft, sweet, warm and brief, but he did it. He’d imagined what it would feel like often, it was not how he’d pictured their first kiss at all. He’d imagined it in the rose garden back in the keep, under the summer sun, flower petals in her hair. He’d put his hand softly on her cheek, and for the briefest of seconds their lips would touch. A sweet kiss.

But this was different, this was more—

Even when she pulled back he held tightly onto her, and to his shock he realised he was crying. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I shouldn’t—I know you said… to go slowly, but-“ he breathed out, trying to compose himself. “I am scared… that one day you’re going to leave and not come back. That you’re just going to vanish on me. If I don’t do it now… what if I don’t get another chance?”

“Anduin,” she said quietly. Her lips tingled. It was not unpleasant, she’d enjoyed it, but it confused her. She wanted to respond to him, now would be the perfect time to kiss him back. If there was an opportune moment, it would be now. But she was scared, too, and too much of a coward to admit it to him.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, taking her hands. “Forget about the kiss—it can… stay out here. No one else saw it. Like you said, the days mistakes just… become part of the past.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles and he smiled weakly, feeling as though he had no strength left. “Promise me you’ll always come back,” he asked quietly. 

She didn’t reply. She wanted to promise it, to tell him that he was everything to her, that sometimes she was certain she didn’t fly away because he was holding her there. That sometimes she was certain if it wasn’t for him, she’d have lost her mind with all the terrors she’d seen. She wanted to tell him she cared, to kiss him back, to brush away the tears which touched his cheeks, to hold him, comfort, love and protect him—

“Why won’t you promise that?” he asked, stepping back from her. “Is it something about me?”

“No-“ she said quickly, moving forward. “Anduin, there’s not a thing about you I would change. You’re wholesome, and good, and pure, and bright.”

“So what is it?”

“It’s me-“

“Don’t give me that.”

Eryn clenched her fists. She didn’t want to argue, not in this beautiful place. She wanted to go for a swim, to forget anything had happened. Every relationship she’d seen had ended in tragedy. Her parents, Jaina and Arthas, even though she’d not directly seen that. Even currently, Jaina and Kalec. She knew they were together to a form, but Jaina’s current warpath was going to lead her away from him, Eryn could see that. Varian and Tiffin. They were the only love stories she could see, none of them were happy, and she didn’t want that for them. She wanted to stay with him, to always be by his side, but not if it resulted in a tragedy. They’d already been through too much.

“Anduin,” she said deeply, her voice thick with an emotion he could not name. It took him a moment to realise she was crying and he moved towards her, scared he’d raised his voice and it was his fault she was in pain. He shouldn’t force it, he was just… scared. He had so few people like her in his life, people he truly trusted and could rely on, and she had changed him so deeply, so… intimately. “The worst nightmares I’ve had… they’ve always been of you dying, and usually I’m the one with the blood on my hands,” She choked out, and as if to make sure her hands were clean, she held them out towards him. 

He didn’t understand. “You would never hurt me.”

“But I already have, haven’t I?” she whispered, closing her eyes painfully. “Every time I walk away from you or reject your advances I hurt you.”

He watched her curiously. “What are you waiting for?”

She didn’t know, and so she couldn’t reply. Perhaps she was waiting for some divine sign, perhaps she’d always be waiting for it. She didn’t know! But to be so close, to be that intimate with another person—it scared her. Her heart hammered. Pained had known her that well, and she was gone. She was never coming back. Every person from her home who knew anything about her was gone, they would never look up and expect her to be there, ready to help them with their goods from the market. The fishermen would never again look up to see her smiling at them, dealing with murlocs for them. The school children would never laugh at her fun magic again. All those people—and it had destroyed her. Corel, too. All these people, all those souls she’d given parts of herself to, they were gone, and it had taken pieces of her until she’d had nothing. She’d worked hard, she found herself anew, with more pieces to share but… but now she was scared to give them to anyone.

To love someone deeply, the way she knew she could Anduin, meant to give up all your pieces, to entrust them to that person. To trust he wouldn’t drop them, or misplace a piece, or to just hand them back in a less than perfect state, or to even take with him to the next world. She feared going through that again.

Anduin stared at her, brushing a few tears from her cheek and smiled. The water pooled around their feet, gentle waves lapping at their legs, and her toes dug into the sand. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, his voice clear in the silent night. “Even if it takes ten years. I trust you to always come back to me, and one day whatever you’re waiting for…” he stared at her, determination clear in his gaze. “I won’t give up on you.”

She wanted to cry more, to protest and tell him she did not deserve it, that it would be better for him to forget whatever this was. But she remembered his lips upon hers and she couldn’t do it. The image of him with another woman—perhaps she was selfish. She didn’t know if she could ever give him all of her pieces, yet here she was claiming all of his. He was so easily and readily giving them to her all at once. Perhaps she could give him hers one piece at a time. Slowly, carefully. If she lost a few pieces… maybe it would be okay. If he misplaced them, if he dropped them… one or two pieces was nothing compared to all of them. 

Slowly, Eryn linked her fingers with him. She said nothing to him; she did not need to. He understood her silent promise to return, her unspoken vow that she would try harder to overcome whatever was holding her back. It calmed him, he knew when this was over, when they were back in Stormwind, that she would leave again, and he knew it would be difficult. And every time she left it would become more difficult, but if she came back with stories of her adventures, and a smile she saved just for him—as long as it was his fingers that she linked with her own, then he could endure it.

The night was still and peaceful, a cool breeze upon their skin, and yet despite her reasonings for liking dusk best, Eryn decided that this was one evening which held nothing she wanted to put in the past. This was one evening which held promises rather than regrets, and she thought that it was perhaps the most beautiful evening she’d ever experienced. 


	4. IV: A POISON NAMED HATRED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this morning I was struck with inspiration, and I wrote a scene for chapter six I think it will be and... I think it's one of the most favourite things I've written. So it made me want to churn out this quick, and the next part quick, so I can post it! :D I know the plot seems a bit pointless right now, but soon everything will start happening :3
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Orgrimmar.

Orcs and Goblins, part of ‘Garrosh’s Horde’ were being led out of the city, if they were alive. Eryn saw more dead than alive, but she didn’t blink. They would have killed them. Right now, below the city, the faction leaders were taking the fight directly to Garrosh, along with some alliance and horde heroes. Eryn had wanted to join with them; seeing them band together inspired her about a btter future for their people. Instead, she hung back to watch over Anduin, who had insisted he come along. Varian hated the idea, but then decided to let him hang back in the infirmary. Sunwalker Dezco was present with Anduin, both seeing to the injured while Eryn hovered near them both, eyes alert for any attacks.

To think it had come to this. The horde and alliance working together. Jaina didn’t like it, but Jaina wanted Garrosh gone more. Eryn had no doubt her former mentor would turn straight on the horde after they were done below the city. It was the not knowing which frustrated her most. Still, at some point they would send the signal back up for the three of them and some of the healed troops to head back down and secure the area and see to any injured below. It seemed like waiting for hours.

She loved watching Anduin heal people. The alliance soldiers would often be quite startled to see the prince at their sides, soothing their aches and pains and knitting their flesh back together, and theyw ere always very grateful when he left them to rest. There were so many healers coming and going, it made it difficult to keep track of who was who.

“You seem tense,” Anduin said quietly as he moved to her side, washing his hands off. 

“There’s too many threats.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a mage, not Mathias or Genn,” he chuckled. “It’s not your job to look out for threats everywhere.” He took her hand gently. “Everything will be fine.”

She smiled at him. He was so easily affectionate with her when it was just them, she didn’t know how he did it. She was always too scared to accidentally hurt him or something. Still, she was grateful he didn’t do it in public; she wasn’t used to it at all, and… for now, just between them… this… elevated friendship or whatever it was. Technically she hadn’t told him how she felt still, and he hadn’t actually asked her to be his girlfriend or anything, but she’d stopped pushing away his advances. She was trying, hard. 

Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement. Anduin reacted first, sending out a barrier around the pair of them, while her hand crackled with arcane energy, blasting the would-be goblin assassin away from the prince. Soldiers jumped on him instantly.

“See!” She said loudly, looking around quite startled. “How on earth did he get here? I need to have words-“

“Relax,” Anduin said, trying as much to calm his own fluttering heart. That had been close. “We make a good team.”

She said nothing, but she gave him a look which was part amusement, and part disbelief. He was so blasé about this whole thing. Even while there was more commotion outside. Eryn muttered, moving past him to go out first, only to find some Orcs fighting with a few Tauren. A few who had been taken prisoner had turned on their captors. She didn’t even know why they were keeping them alive; they’d committed so many crimes of war and yet Anduin and Baine had insisted on it. Deal with them answer, sentence them properly. 

She quickly froze one in place, glaring deeply at the green skinned brute. This was not their land, yet they acted like it was. Garrosh acted as though his people had some claim upon the entire thing, rather than their own place. They had Durotar, in fact they had far more than that, and the alliance had mostly changed. Slavery wasn’t openly practiced since Varian and Thrall had come to some understandings. She knew that people on both sides ignored that and kept humans and orcs as slaves, but—but Garrosh wanted everything. She was all for sending him back to where he came from, let him conquer that place. She snorted; ot was ruined and falling apart because of Gul’dans magic, because of the legion, of course he wasn’t interested in it.

“Break it up,” she barked, glaring deeply at the orcs and gripping her staff tightly. These were the ones who had destroyed Theramore. These were the ones she had no empathy for, not like those who were fighting against Garrosh. Those orcs had honour, they had her respect.

“Eryn,” Anduin said quietly, lingering behind her. She knew if she looked at him she would see his careful gaze, trying to calm her into not doing anything rash.

“Don’t we have horse sedatives or something,” she muttered to a nearby SI:7 agent. “Where is master Shaw? He was supposed to be overseeing this, and assassins-“

“I am here, good lady.”

She would have jumped out of her skin at how he appeared from the shadows, but instead she only saw blind fury. Eryn turned on him, a mass of fire, a fury Anduin felt should have terrified him, but instead he only kept his eyes on her, feeling more and more in awe. She was amazing and passionate. “Your security is lax, and this-“ she turned to freeze another orc who had broken free. 

“I’ll deal with it,” Mathias replied, looking very amused. Anduin wanted to ask what he was finding so funny, but he felt he understood. Eryn had no official rank, she was not even a noble, but she took the leadership well. If she ever agreed to be his queen, Anduin thought she would be a wildfire, in a good way. Nobles wouldn’t want to argue with her, no one was going to talk back to her, and she certainly wasn’t going to take things for any less than she specified. He, too, grinned at the idea. No doubt if his father was here, he’d be laughing and joking about it himself. “But I have a message from the king. The way is open, the heroes are soon to engage Garrosh. There are some injured.”

She nodded. So it was time to head into the city below Origrimmar. She’d listened to some of the soldiers discuss it, talk about the things they’d seen, the mass of horde soldiers who had been on Garrosh’s side. That one upset Anduin, because despite utterances of the vast number of Orcs and Goblins there had been, very few had returned alive or had come out as bodies. She wanted to get this over with, to have everything return to normal.

Anduin only looked on in horror at the sights around them as they descended. He was quiet, his jaw set in a grim determination to be better than this. How could Garrosh lead his people to do this? If he cared for them so much, why lead them on this path? That was not what a leader should do, not in his eyes. His father was far from perfect, but he’d become a great king, loved and respected in the past few years. To Anduin, that was the type of leader he aspired to be. He knew he wouldn’t be able to be that; his father was a warrior, they saw the world differently. 

“The horde really like red, huh,” Eryn muttered. Dezco chuckled at her side. “Thunder Bluff is much more beautiful than this.”

“She is,” he said softly.

“You miss your home,” she pointed out. “I understand that feeling.” Her grip on Arcalima tightened and he stared upon her with sympathy and sighed. Baine regretted not being able to save Theramore, knowing that Eryn had risked her life to save his own home. He wondered if she felt any animosity towards them, she was hard to figure out. Cold at times, and yet other times when she thought no one was looking, any smile or hard look upon her face faded and he guessed that she just seemed lonely. He didn’t know how; Anduin would look upon her so brightly it would have been hard to not feel cared for, but… he supposed that was her problem, that was between them. He liked her though, she got things done and she never complained. 

“There’s so many dead,” Anduin said in horror, unable to keep his eyes away from the piles of bodies. Blood was pooled on the floor, some bloody footprints going this way or that way. The smell almost made him feel sick.

“They fight until death,” Dezco pointed out.

“I don’t see the point,” the prince muttered. “If you can save your life, why not?”

“Pride,” Eryn said simply. “Or because it would diminish their honour,” she snorted. “Not that these orcs have any in the first place-“ her eyes watched one of Sylvanas’ dark rangers past, paying close attention. If there was one horde race she’d never trust, it was the forsaken. The dark ranger paused, staring back at her.

“It’s not polite to stare, human.”

The mage growled, wanting to come up with a rude remark, or even to swear at her but at the same time, doors opened, and Varian strode in, Jaina on his heels. She noted the pressnece of Vol’jin and Baine, and Sylvanas lingering at the back by the door. Her skin prickled, if it hadn’t been for Varian, she would have scooped Anduin up and run off with him.

“You’re here,” Varian said deeply, relief upon his face when he took in his son. “How are things up there?”

Eryn bit her lip, eyes meeting Jaina’s. They were cold, determined and Eryn wondered if hers looked the same. Was that a good thing? Alchos was silent; he always was. She liked it; she knew he was there, she could feel his power. Nothing had changed, she was just now aware of where the extra power came from, and, if she happened to have need of his advice or aid, he would answer her. But he cared little for politics or for anything which didn’t involve magic, and so he often stayed silent. 

“Eryn was giving you a run for your money,” Anduin grinned. “You should have seen Mathias’ face when she told him off.”

The king looked at her with a grin and then back to his son, laughing deeply. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he felt strangely calm. Eryn said nothing, moving instead to her former mentor’s side, content that Anduin was safe enough with his father. “Garrosh is being engaged by the team of heroes,” Jaina said to her. “Thrall was… not able to stop him,” she carried on, a tight-lipped grimace on her face. “He can not be reasoned with, I fail to understand why they keep trying.”

Eryn was inclined to agree. She watched the horde leaders, rubbing her hands as she focused entirely on the banshee queen. She was leaning in a door way, just observing everything, and despite the thoughtful look upon her face, her eyes were directed upon the king a hungry look within them. “I don’t trust her,” Eryn muttered.

“I don’t trust any of them.”

“Even Baine?” Eryn looked over at him. She still considered him a friend. He was talking with Anduin, Varian and Dezco both silent at their sides. “He is a good man.”

“He still let Garrosh get away with too much, they all did. Myself included,” Jaina hissed, her voice low. “He must be stopped; the horde must be stopped. Today.”

“Jaina,” Eryn said, eyeing her up. “What are you planning on doing?”

“Nothing,” she replied quickly. “But if Varian has sense he will listen to me and he will stop them here before something like this can happen again.”

While they were leaderless, while their forces were weak from Garrosh’s regime and now the attack upon the city. Strike them, take them apart, dismantle every single part of them—Eryn breathed in. That was not the right thing to do, and yet she couldn’t deny the part of her that wished to do that. What would this world be without the horde? She could see it working for the better—bring the tauren and the blood elves into the alliance. The trolls, under Vol’jin, perhaps they would go and live on their own, peacefully elsewhere. Who would take charge of the orcs, though? They would never live within Alliance walls, yet she doubted Jaina would agree to let them have Orgrimmar even if they were alone. 

And then the goblins and forsaken were an issue.

Eryn’ eyes set upon Gallywix and she scowled. “What a disgusting creature. Even Anduin doesn’t like goblins,” she muttered. “That’s how you know they’re bad.”

Jaina laughed softly. “He is intelligent enough to understand they cannot be trusted. All they care about is money, they’re loyal to the highest bidder.”

The highest bidder which could change at any moment, she finished for her. Eryn looked back at Anduin, smiling when she found his eyes already upon her. How did he do that? Make her smile so easily? He had done nothing, and yet—

Jaina hummed, watching the two of them. “I raised you hoping you and he would become friends, but I confess I did not see it developing any further,” she said quietly. “But I suppose I should have seen it coming.”

Eryn sighed, shaking her head. “I tell him all the time to just give up on me,” she said. “To find someone more suited. He doesn’t listen. It seems to make him dig his heels in even more.” She wanted to laugh, but she found no joy in that statement. 

“He is a kind boy,” Jaina said softly. “He will be good to you.”

She wanted to speak about how she was scared, how happy endings didn’t seem to exist for people in their world, but the words died before they could form, and instead she listened silently as Jaina spoke about the pair of them. Eryn knew all this; she knew he was good for her, that he was bright, kind, gentle, and he would be loving and sweet with her. But could she give him everything he deserved?

Her lilac eyes glanced back over to him. He was engaged in conversation with Baine and she was struck, again, by how much he’d grown since she first met him. He was slowly losing the softness to his face, growing into his fathers strong chin and strong brow. He was good looking, she couldn’t deny that. The fact he was interested in her—it was enough to make her feel heady.

Now was not the time for that kind of thinking though. And she was grateful for the appearance of Genn who was looking more and more agitated. Arms folded over his chest as he fell to stand next to Jaina, keeping a careful glare upon Sylvanas. “I’ll be glad when this is over,” he muttered.

“Me too,” Eryn breathed.

The old wolf chuckled, eyes alive with a mischief she didn’t think he’d possess. If there was one thing she’d come to know about him, was that he was unsuspectingly kind and fun. His daughter was lucky to have such a good father, she felt a pang of jealously. Her own father had given up almost everything for her, and he’d died… and all she could think was that Genn would have been a good father. What kind of horrible person was she?

“I heard there was an assassin after Anduin.”

Eryn’s face turned into a scowl.

“And I heard that you yelled at Master Shaw.”

“Eryn?” Jaina sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“I didn’t yell,” she replied quickly. “I just spoke loudly and sternly.”

Genn laughed deeply; he liked her. She had a spirit, and it seemed when it came to Anduin’s safety, she held nothing back. She wasn’t shy, just… quiet he supposed. Animated with those she knew well, but she kept a careful face around strangers.But for Anduin’s sake, she always seemed to let it slip. Anduin was soft, gentle, and kind. He was like water, Genn supposed, he had the potential to be dangerous, but he was calm, steady, the type to slowly wear away at his enemies rather than go full on. But she was fire, she would leap into a situation, all alert without having thought once about what she would actually do; when it came to her passions, she held nothing back. Even in her anger. He did not see it as a bad thing, he did not even think she should perhaps contain it. If this was who Anduin would pick to be his queen, then she needed to seem strong, especially to the court, and not a push over at all. He may have had the hard duty of being king, but, he knew that she had a difficult job too. Perhaps Mia could talk to her, Genn thought. It wouldn’t be the same, Gilneas was small and Mia was much older, but, still, she had supported him well. A good wife, a good queen. 

“He’s not upset is he?” Eryn asked quietly after a time.

“No, I think he’s quite amused actually. Someone so small yelled at him. I think he called you a kitten,” he rubbed his chin, grinning wolfishly at her.

“A kitten?!” she muttered, clenching her staff tightly. “I’ll polymorph him into a kitten the next time-“

The door swung open and silence fell upon those gathered. 

Varian went first, no hesitation. Baine went after him, Sylvanas next, Vol’jin, Genn and Jaina hurried after Varian and Eryn watched as the other leaders followed silently. She waited for Anduin, and then without a word, stuck to his side as they entered Garrosh’s ‘throne room’.

It was sad, she thought, looking down upon the beaten orc. To see him so defeated, and yet still so adamant he’d been right. What did he want? She had been worried that upon seeing him she would lose it, that all her anger would appear at once, but instead she found the opposite happened. All anger she felt was suddenly gone. The dagger she’d stowed in her boot seemed useless now and she felt her body relax. She found herelf, instead, wanting to talk to him. His hand would easily crush her head, she knew that, but she felt—

Varian crossed the room in time to stop Thrall killing him. 

The mage tensed herself, wondering if a fight was brewing between the factions. “Father, no-“ Anduin moved forward, but his voice was drowned out by Varian’s. Jaina was moving forward, Eryn could feel her magic converging in her hands and she gulped. A fight? Right now?

“He deserves to die,” Thrall said deeply.

Varian didn’t disagree. “His fate isn’t for us to decide. It’s for everyone.” Only when Thrall let up with the doomhammer did Varian relax back up, turning to Taran’zhu instead. “He will stand trial in Pandaria.”

Pride. That was what Anduin felt. His father could have hated Garrosh, he had every reason to; but instead he was being fair. He was so proud of his father—beaming when he returned back. “What are you doing?” Jaina hissed. “Dismantle the horde right now. They’re vulnerable.”

Slowly, the pride melted away as he watched Varian glance back towards where the horde leaders were converging. Were they plotting their downfall right now? She reached out to grab Anduin’s hand, suddenly wishing they could just run away together. She didn’t want to fight with them, Anduin didn’t either; they were so young and had already witnessed too much death, too much violence. It had almost destroyed her, almost killed him.

Yet her protests died on her lips as Varian marched across the room, a victorious look upon Jaina’s face. “I will speak with your warchief.”

“Father-“ Anduin pleaded weakly, squeezing Eryn’s hand back. She tore her eyes from the king, watching to where Garrosh was being held. Had no one learned any lessons here? 

“I speak for the horde.”

Shock. That was what Eryn felt then, staring at Vol’jin. A new warchief so soon, and she’d expected Thrall to retake the mantle, but something was broken there, wasn’t it? Did Varian somehow blame Thrall for Garrosh? Jaina did, and Eryn felt that she did in some way, too. They’d warned Thrall, pleaded with him, but he’d ignored their words, and reasonings. Had he listened… Theramore would be safe, Anduin would not have almost died. Eryn inhaled, eyes still on Garrosh. He was being led from Ogrimmar now, she wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him—would she even be allowed to? She wanted to know, sit in front of him, get it from his own mouth. Why. 

She tuned back into Varian to hear him mention a truce. Even more shock—and yet she smiled when she saw Anduin practically beaming like a proud parent at his own father. She noticed, too, Jaina’s furious look as she rushed back over. “What are you doing, Varian?” Jaina muttered, voice hushed and urgent. “Destroy them now.”

“No,” he said firmly. “If you’ll please, it’s time to go home.”

Words Eryn had waited to hear for so long. Home. It calmed her, rather than surprised her, to find she thought of Stormwind and not Theramore. That the soft scent of apple blossoms sprang to her mind rather than the sea air, that the busy trade district, or the sounds of the soldiers fighting in the barracks were the things she thought of first rather than the sound of happy children. 

Stormwind was home, and it was time to work towards a new life.

***

It was not Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde which sat before her, and yet he was not broken. He was not shamed, even stuck in prison, caged like a wild animal. He sat calmly in his cell facing her. She was cross legged, sitting the other side, just watching him. She had been for the past thirty minutes.

She was trying to decide how to talk to him, and yet the more she wanted to know why the less it mattered. For his people, for his people’s future, to redeem them, for honour, for glory—what did any of that matter? His ends didn’t justify his means, and yet—

Punishing him for everything he’d done only seemed to hurt her more. Anger, hatred—holding onto those things, they were twisting her into this person she wasn’t sure she liked. A person who she was certain Anduin could never like. 

This could be her.

Locked up in prison, yet unashamed of anything.That could be her. If she let the anger change her so much; the havoc and destruction she could unleash—her eyes closed. Did her pain at loosing Theramore mean she got to take someone else’s home from them? No. 

“Are you going to speak, girl? Or are you unintelligent and just going to stare?”

Her lilac eyes snapped open to stare back. She’d begged Anduin and Varian to convince the Pandaren to give her some time with him. They’d said no, until she’d pleaded with them herself; to find peace she needed to confront him. He was the monster in her dreams, the source of the self-administered poison that was the hate which coursed through her veins—

Eryn gulped and let out a cool sigh. “I came here to ask why,” She said, not pausing enough for him to explain. “But I decided it doesn’t matter.”

Garrosh grunted. “You cling to Varian’s pup. He is a fool.”

“Anduin might be young,” she said calmly. “But he is no fool. If he see’s something in you which can be redeemed… then I trust him.” He laughed darkly, but she remained stoic. Her hands rested on her knees and she sighed deeply, moving to look at the ceiling.

“I should have killed him properly.”

“If you had you would no longer be here,” she snapped, eyes falling back to him. “Because Varian would not have stopped, and I would have killed you myself the moment I saw you. That he survived is the only reason you are even breathing.”

Garrosh snorted. They would kill him anyway; why were they prolonging it? “At least I would have died in battle.”

Eryn sighed, pushing herself to her feet. “I came here to ask why,” she repeated, her voice quiet as she stared down at him. “I don’t think I’ll understand even if you explained, but your answer means nothing. Nothing can change from it.” She moved forward, clutching the bar of his cell tightly and squeezing. “It would be so easy for me to kill you right now. Melt the bars under a spell. I have a dagger in my boot, even you can’t survive if I slit your throat.”

“So do it.”

She let go of the bar and stood back. “I forgive you,” she said simply, and rather than wait for any reply, she turned on her heel and marched right out of the hallway. Anduin was waiting outside for her with his father. 

“Are you okay?” Anduin asked deeply, taking her in.

“I didn’t hear yelling,” Varian added, sounding almost disappointed. “I missed you yelling at Mathias, yelling at Garrosh would have made up for it.”

“Why does everyone think I yelled?” she sighed, shaking her head. It was a strangely beautiful day, and for the first time in months, she felt as though a weight had gone from her shoulders. Eryn breathed in deeply. “It’s a nice day.”

Anduin stared at her, feeling confused, and yet—if this was how she would react…. He would wait for her, be there in case it was a delayed reaction, in case if at night she had nightmares again, or if in silent she would fall apart. But—he was unable to hide his smile as he watched her. She seemed at peace.

“Let’s have lunch together,” Varian said. Garrosh’s trial nagged at him, but it would be nice, for once, to grab some peace in what had been a hectic year. Things were settling down, it seemed. He let out a deep breath. It was time to focus on a better future for his people. “Eryn, I have a proposition for you,” he said, staring at her seriously. “The position on my small council for a mage is still open if you would like it. I would offer it to you now. You wouldn’t need to stay in Stormwind all the time,” he said quickly, wondering if that would be a deal breaker for her. But she had nowhere to go, and he wanted her to belong in Stormwind, to feel as if it was a place she always had to return to. Jaina was nowhere in sight, back and forth from Pandaria to Dalaran, usually entirely ignoring her former apprentice. 

The prince watched the girl curiously. Would she say yes? That was why they’d originally met, wasn’t it? Because she was going to take that position. And then Mafyr and the maleficar had happened, and there had been nothing else. She would probably have stayed that aloof mage he met back them, all form and protocol, titles if she felt the need to. He liked this Eryn more, he decided, the true Eryn. The one who would laugh at his fathers jokes so hard that even Anduin would find those ridiculous things funny. 

The three of them enjoyed lunch together on a balcony of the tavern. She seemed happy, he decided, and added that he, too, felt happy. His father seemed in high spirits, too. There must have been something in the air. They spoke about numerous things, Varian and Eryn were mostly asking more intimate questions about each other; Anduin was content to sit back and watch, until his father began to tell embarrassing stories of him. “Father!”

Varian laughed deeply. It was stupid to hope for life to be like this in the future, he knew that well. That Eryn and Anduin would always be this jovial, always this free and happy; that they would never have to experience another war again, that another city wouldn’t be lost, that the wouldn’t lose anyone else to any act of war again. He didn’t plan on dying soon, and when he did, he planned to be the first Wrynn to die in his bed, peacefully, of old age.

Things were up in the air, Eryn knew, between her and Anduin. But they would have time to figure it out now, to do it properly, with no pressures of death or having to save other people. They could take their time. She sipped her wine, one which, to her surprise, Anduin had chosen, and found it to be quite pleasant. She smiled at the glass, putting it back down on the table and stared intently at the king. Peace was a fragile thing, so easily shattered; but it was something she wanted to preserve for as long as possible. “Varian,” she said clearly. “I’d like to accept your offer.”


	5. V: Always Yours

Things went back to normal quickly. Eryn fell into her new role as if it was made for her, Genn was giving her advice after she’d returned to Stormwind ahead of Anduin and Varian who were lingering for Garrosh’s trial. She wanted to ‘move in’ properly and settle in before the king returned and she had to get to work; but she found she thrived in this situation, all the work, always having something to do. Varian and Anduin each had their own paperwork that was piling up while they were away too, which Genn and the other advisors were helping with, and Eryn found herself getting stuck in with Anduin’s own work. She was surprised at the things he was dealing with but found herself smiling. He really did care about his people. Genn had also suggested she find her own projects within the kingdom to work on, not as advisor, but as someone who would perhaps start being linked to the prince as more than a friend.

The idea had made her pause. Would she want their… whatever it was to be public? Not yet, she decided. They had to define what they had first, now they had time to do it. But the idea still terrified her; things were happy, peaceful. That didn’t happen; things never ended happily. It made her nervous, and she would walk the halls of the keep, wringing her hands and looking for any threats in any direction. She’d even gone as far as to discuss the safety arrangements around Anduin and the King with Mathias Shaw, relaying all the information she’d learned from Pained.

He reckoned she would have made a great agent if she ever decided on it, while SI:7 composed mostly of rogues, he didn’t think it would be hard to include a mage. If she had the skills, he could offer training. It was something for her to think of, anyway. But she got thrown off when he’d mentioned the king had extended their protection for her too. She’d discuss it with Varian when she was back, but it unsettled her, to be so highly included.

It was a morning, three days after she’d returned, and she was having breakfast with Genn and his wife, Mia. She liked the pair of them, they were quiet and kind. Mia was very motherly to her, showing her around properly, giving her tips on court etiquette that Jaina had never included and perhaps never even known. It stressed her a little, to think that even her wardrobe would be scrutinised by the people when she got known. But, for now, she was just an advisor to the king. She was sipping her tea in the morning sunshine of the breaking room, penning a letter to Khadgar. She wanted to invite him to visit her, explaining everything that had happened, and that how she probably wouldn’t be able to leave any time soon. She’d make a job of trying to see him as much as possible; she still had a lot to learn, and she wanted advice from him on what to expect in her role. Genn had given her some, but he was not a mage; he would not be asked about magical affairs.

“Paperwork seems to agree with you, dear,” Mia said softly, watching her. “I’ve never known anyone to thrive on so much work.”

Genn snorted. “Varian will think she’s insane, he hates paperwork.”

Eryn laughed softly. “It focuses me if I can keep my mind occupied on it, I had a lot of studying when I was with Jaina-“ she broke off, a sour dry taste in her mouth. Jaina had not even looked at her; she felt slighted at Eryn agreeing with Anduin that Garrosh could still be saved. She hated that her former apprentice had forgiven him, was angered that she had ‘so easily forgotten Theramore’. It hurt Eryn. How could Jaina possibly think she’d forgotten the place she’d called home for so long? She hadn’t, she never would; she would carry it with her forever, but she decided to make a new home, to focus on being happy there, and she could only do it if she forgave Garrosh. 

“She will come around,” Genn said softly.

“Will she?” Eryn asked, putting her tea cup and pen down. “Jaina is letting her hate guide her. I understand where she’s coming from-“ she paused, feeling a magical influx. “They’re back,” She said, frowning. 

“They’re early,” Genn murmured, dread pooling in his gut. Why did things never go well?

Three sets of footsteps came towards the breakfast room. Eryn wasn’t sure she wanted to know what happened; could this be good news at all? The door opened. Varian looked angry, furious. Mathias looked busied, and Anduin, she thought, looked guilty and troubled. Unharmed though, she noted, taking in a sweep of him. She breathed out. “What happened?” Genn asked. “You have returned early.”

“Do sit down,” Mia said softly, standing up from the table. “Eat.”

“I can’t, Mia,” Varian said softly, giving her a smile. “I have much to do—Eryn, Genn, if you’ll join me, we have work to do. Garrosh… escaped at the trial, aided by a rogue bronze dragon and-“

“Wrathion,” Anduin said quietly, looking as though he wanted to disappear and make himself small.

She wanted to say I told you so, but instead she just sighed and stood up. She couldn’t look at him, she didn’t want to do the whole ‘I was right’ thing with him, he already looked guilty. Besides, it wasn’t his fault, even if he was going to blame himself. Perhaps she should talk it out of him, but—

The mage glanced up at him and found him smiling at her. It was small, but it was there, and she smiled in return.

“Have lunch with me?” he asked quietly. “If you have time, I mean.”

“I’d like that,” she said back.

They got stuck into work straight away. Varian and Genn discussed plans, where Garrosh could have gone, what he was intending to do—should they strengthen their army? Discuss it with the horde? They needed an emissary, Varian had decided, someone who Vol’jin would agree to send information through. Mathias suggested some agents, but Genn had countered that they wouldn’t be considered trustworthy.It amazed Eryn and she felt so out of her league but was content to listen and observe. She wasn’t sure she could even suggest any ideas. Garrosh was wanted by everyone apart from the Orc’s who had come from Blackrock to conspire with him. Her lips turned. Gallywix she supposed wouldn’t care, they were still loyal to the horde. To the highest bidder. It disgusted her.

He was aided by one bronze dragon and by Wrathion. She gulped down her anger. “Perhaps we should ask Chromie and the other bronze dragons for help?” she suggested.

Varian ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Chromie has aided us already, but she was left injured. The best she could guess was he came to the Eastern Kingdom’s.”

“Not Kalimdor?” Genn asked. “Odd.”

“If he’s with Wrathion—he’s not going towards Blackrock mountain, is he?” Eryn asked dubiously. 

“I’ll have scouts watch the place,” Mathias muttered. Blackrock was close to Stormwind, it was a threat that always bothered the human kingdom’s, and one no one in the room was content to let sit there. 

What would she do, if she was Garrosh? Eryn thought, taking a seat around the map table and staring at it intently. It seemed a life time ago she was putting together the kidnappings and murders. She absently levitated a book, trying to figure out any idea. Everyone was silent, all in their thoughts the same as her. 

The door burst open, a man appeared, hunched over with his hands on his thighs and panting heavily. Everyone turned to look at him, Eryn crossed her legs, beginning to feel more and more anxious. More bad news?

“News from Nethergarde, your majesty,” the man said, hurrying towards the king and offering him a letter. “Urgent.”

Varian quickly broke the seal on the letter, and Eryn watched as colour slowly drained from his face. She was on her feet before he’d said anything. What else could possibly go wrong? She closed her eyes, understanding before he could explain, throwing the letter onto the table for the others to read. “The dark portal.”

“I can contact Archmage Khadgar,” Eryn said. “Ask him to come.”

“Perhaps he can be a go between for both factions,” Mathias suggested. “He is well respected on both sides, and neutral.” He didn’t like it, but if that was the king’s intention, he would go with it.

Eryn nodded. “He would agree that right now, we need to work together.”

The king looked old, she thought, as if he was tired of things being so intense all the time. They’d all barely had time to breathe, and now—she exhaled, closing her eyes and trying to calm herself. They would stop this before it got serious. 

“Eryn, I want you to go directly to him and bring him here,” he said, his eyes fluttering from her, to the spymaster. “Master Shaw, send a scout with her and send word to the horde.”

“Of course,” he said, leaving the room swiftly.

Genn shook his head, taking the seat Eryn had occupied before and took the missive in his hands. “To think,” he murmured to Eryn. “I was worried you would get bored dealing with complaining nobles.”

The mage laughed softly, glad to find someone in the room was able to make a joke. “I don’t know, a dispute over a goat might be more thrilling than this. Who doesn’t like power-lusting Orc’s combined with demonic magic of the burning legion?”

Varian grimaced; did she really have to say it like that?

* * *

With so much to be doing, Eryn barely had time for little else. She’d missed lunch with Anduin that day, and every day since she’d wanted to eat with him, but either he was busy, or she was. She’d barely had time to eat dinner at all, and when she did, she was stuck in Varian’s office, doing his paperwork while he focused on the more pressing issue of the portal. She didn’t mind, as she said, she enjoyed it. Khadgar had come willingly but had long since departed for the Dark Portal again. It was active. She sighed. But he had agreed to unite the horde and alliance forces and was ready to lead a vanguard through the portal at any moment’s notice.

This… iron horde.

The reports disturbed her. What was Garrosh doing? She rubbed her head, yawning softly. What time was it? Varian’s office had no windows, no clocks. Her stomach grumbled distantly, but the stack of papers hadn’t gone down. She’d asked the guards to ask the kitchen to not send up any food, and so she had no clue of the time. 

She felt strange, how everything was so… normal. She’d so easily filled this role, she fit into life easily here. It shouldn’t worry her, she knew that, that it was becoming normal meant it was home to her, that this was the life she’d chosen, and it suited her. But… something about it just unnerved her. 

The door clicked open and she glanced up, unable to hide the small smile on her lips as it appeared so instantly. He had food with him, and a frown. She chuckled, sitting back as she awaited the lecture he had prepared. “You need to eat, and you also need to stop staying in here all night—what time did you go to bed last night?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “There’s a lot of work to do here.”

The prince sighed, pulling up a chair to sit beside her. “Well, I brought us both dinner. So stop working and eat with me, and that’s from my father, not me,” he grinned at her.

“Of course it is,” she sighed, and yet was thankful for the distraction. As if to betray how she felt, her stomach gurgled loudly. 

“You seem distracted,” he said quietly, pausing, before reaching out to take her hand. 

Honesty was what he deserved, she knew that. Eryn sighed softly, stirring her soup absently with her other hand. “This is so normal to me,” She said. “This life I’ve fallen into.

“And that’s a bad thing? You seem so… happy, despite the obvious,” he frowned, trying to understand. Would she rather be miserable, still searching for where she fit into everything? He didn’t want that, but—

“I’m anxious, Anduin,” she said quickly, looking down at the desk, her eyes tracing every knot in the wood. “People don’t ever get to be happy like this. Isn’t this whole situation proof of that?” she looked up at him, daring him to disagree. “We almost had peace for a time, Garrosh would have been dealt with.”

“No one could see his escape coming,” Anduin said gently.

Eryn nodded. “Yes, you’re right on that, but doesn’t how… surprising it is just show that things get taken away so quickly? What happens after we stop Garrosh this time? What else is going to come?”

“Maybe nothing. Perhaps once he’s dealt with… perhaps that’s when things calm down.”

She gave him a disbelieving look, but she could tell that he didn’t quite fully believe his own words, even if they were the ones he hoped for dearly. “Anduin, no one gets a happy ending in this.” And then, suddenly, she found her eyes welling up. She tightened her grip on his hand, staring at him intently. What had come over her? “I’m scared, Anduin,” she admitted. “That something is going to take you from me, and I’m not going to be able to stop it. No one gets to be happy, Anduin.”

He was on his knees in front of her instantly, wiping the tears from her face and soothing her. As words came to his mindabout how it would be okay, they died quickly as he remembered how just a few weeks ago he’d been almost killed by Garrosh. He couldn’t promise her that. He’d just wanted to have dinner with her, he’d planned a surprise for her, too, and now felt anxious it might upset her more. But—

Anduin paused, leaning up and kissing her firmly.

He didn’t know what else to do, but he noted she did not pull away, instead she squeezed his hand as if trying to remind herself he was still there. She tasted vaguely of tea, he thought—and this close, the scent of apples which clung to her were intoxicating. He wanted to kiss her more, but before it could become anything more than a sweet kiss, he pulled away. “I’m not sorry,” he said firmly, staring up at her intently. “Eryn, I’m not going anywhere. They will have to drag me from you. I’m not going to die until I’ve had a full and satisfied life, and not until I’ve made sure the rest of your life has been filled with love and warmth and kindness.”

She smiled at him, almost wanting to cry at how sincere he was. Her chest felt as though it could explode from pressure. She felt so intently—but felt what? This was so much more than anything she’d felt before. 

Anduin moved back into his chair and moved it closer to hers. “I got you something,” he said timidly. 

“What?”

“It’s a… congratulations gift, for taking the role, I guess,” he rubbed his neck and chin, chuckling. “I just wanted an excuse to get you something, truthfully.”

“Anduin, you don’t have to get me gifts,” She frowned. 

“But I want to,” he countered, taking both of his hands to undo the clasp around his neck. He offered it to her, his eyes trained on her face as she took the locket gently in her hands. “I had it made.”

To say she was overwhelmed—Eryn breathed in. It was beautiful. The locket was oval and made of silver; with the house Wrynn symbol engraved on the front. The clasp had a blue gem set into it. It was plain and yet—beautiful. That he had it made for her… he truly knew her well, didn’t he? It was simple and understated, exactly the type of things she liked to wear.

“It’s empty inside,” he said. “I thought you could put whatever you wanted in there and-“ he paused, turning it over. 

It was strange, how two simple words could make her world stop, Eryn thought. Engraved on the back in very neat scroll, just small at the bottom was the words ‘Always yours’ accompanied by his initials ‘A.L.W’. She wanted to joke, to ask him who had raised him to be so smooth—to ask whether Varian had given him tips on wooing girls—but instead all she could do was look at his gentle face. “I love it,” She whispered. “It’s beautiful. Help me put it on?”

“O-of course,” he said happily, taking it from her as she turned around. Her hair was still short, she’d had it cut recently. He wondered if she would grow it out and thought about his own hair; he would need his cut soon. Gently, he placed the locket around her neck, his fingers brushing the skin there. When she shuddered, he found his breath hitch in his throat and he yearned to do it again. Her skin was soft, and long after he’d done the clasp up, he found his fingers lingered there. She didn’t react to it, content to just sit there. “Eryn,” he said quietly. “I know that-“

“I thought I would find you in here.”

Anduin jumped out of his skin, almost going five feet across the room. Eryn, too, stared with wide eyes at the door, feeling as though they’d been caught doing something wrong. He’d been so close, his breath on her ear, his fingers on her skin—she hadn’t wanted it to stop. What was he going to say?

Varian looked between them for a few moments, laughing deep within his chest. His son just glared at him, had he ruined a moment? He carried on laughing. “Eryn, there was a letter for you,” he said, offering it to her.

“T-thank you,” she gulped down, putting it on the desk.

“Anduin, Genn is looking for you,” he said.

“Right,” he mumbled, standing up. He thought to what she said about how something always disturbed the peace, and he thought that, perhaps, this was what she meant. He chuckled to himself, kissing her forehead as he took the empty tray and left.

Eryn sat there dumbstruck, the place he had kissed her felt warm and—

“Ah, to be young,” Varian said, taking the chair Anduin had occupied. He’d come only to pass on the messages, but—now would be a good time to talk with her, see how she was feeling. She was coping extremely well, he thought, but wondered if it was something else entirely. 

Eryn’s hand shot up to touch the locket and she smiled deeply, vowing to herself that she wouldn’t take it off, ever. It was the most beautiful gift she’d ever received, and—her chest welled up again. It was the strangest feeling, as if she could do anything. It was one she often got around him, but this was more… intense, more—

“I think I love him,” she breathed out, startling herself at the realisation.

Varian chuckled deeply. “Are you going to tell him?”

She wanted to say no, that it was too soon—that it wasn’t the right time, and yet she didn’t care about those things. Eryn nodded, determination upon her face. “I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

The king grinned. Well, he wasn’t sure what had gotten into her—his eyes glanced at the locket and he smiled. Anduin would be insufferable over the next few days, he could just tell. He laughed again, he hadn’t felt this happy in a while. He’d always worried about Anduin, how he never made friends his age, but to think he could end up making such a good friend—one who would fall in love with him. 

Silence, but not an uncomfortable one. Eryn grabbed the letter, looking it over this way and that. It wasn’t marked with any seal and she didn’t recognise the writing at all. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt so apprehensive about opening it—like a monster would jump out at her from it. She let out a deep sigh and ripped it open.

The letter was in an untidy scroll that was like her own. 

_ Dearest Eryn, _

_ I confess I am quite unsure as to how I should write this. I have been told my entire life a direct approach is the best, and so I should cut to the chase. Any frivolous chatting can, perhaps, be done in person should you decide we meet. _

She paused reading, raising an eyebrow. Where was this going?

_ My name is Damien. I currently live within Amberpine in the Grizzly Hills. I am aware you have visited Northrend before, so I am sure you are familiar. I was born within the city of Lordaeron five years before you. This is not easy for me to tell you, yet I feel it is for the best, but I am your brother, born from your father and my mother. _

A cold ringing set within her ears. Brother? Her father had… cheated on her mother? Is that what he was implying? She suddenly felt sick, as if the father she’d known while little was suddenly a stranger to her. Did her mother know? Had it broken her heart? Or maybe they hadn’t been together at that point? She inwardly screamed, wishing Alchos to give her an answer, he knew her mother but—he was silent.

_ I would very much like to meet you and discuss this more in depth. I’m sure it is a shock to you, and I will not take offense should you decide you would rather forget this entire letter. However, should the opposite be true, please respond with a time I can expect your visit and I will have the spare room prepared for your stay.  _

_ You must wonder why I have only suddenly told you this, but I would like to get to know my little sister. My mother recently passed away, and you are hence the only family I have left. I am told your mother also died, and our father is no longer with us, too.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Damien Briggs _

Her mouth felt dry.

Varian watched. She’d gone so pale—of course he knew the contents, Mathias checked all the incoming mail. That was part of the reason he’d wanted to linger, too, in case she needed someone.It wouldn’t be an easy thing to take in and he had no idea how she’d react. Would she want to go? Or would she rather ignore this Damien’s existence?

“Is it true?” she breathed out.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I asked Mathias to check but we couldn’t find anything. Records from Lordaeron were…”

“Lost, I know,” she frowned, staring at the paper.

“But he did find the man in question.”

“And?”

“And his mother did just pass away recently,” Varian said softly. “He seems well liked within the town, he’s a hunter, makes a living selling meat and furs. He doesn’t seem to be mixed into anything shady.”

She breathed again, feeling very much like she’d lost control. “So, you think he’s trustworthy?”

Did he? Varian stared at her. “What do you plan on doing? If you want to visit him, I can spare you a few days, but you’d have to leave soon.”

“I’ll go tomorrow,” She said. 

“Tomorrow?”

“I can stop in Dalaran, I wanted a book from there anyway—I want to… see him before I decide whether to talk with him,” she said quietly. She thought that, perhaps, maybe he’d look like her or her father, like she needed proof of it. She wrung her hands nervously. She would postpone telling Anduin how she felt until she came back. Hadn’t she told him she wouldn’t be leaving any time soon?

He’d understand this though, right? This was a different situation.

She’d tell him. Just… when she returned, when it was right. When it could be just the pair of them. She felt sick, though. Alchos remained silent and all she wanted was answers now. What she’d give to go back half an hour, to be with Anduin again; his breath on her ear, his hands on her skin. Perhaps she’d kiss him back, tell him she loved him and not open the letter. Perhaps she should stay ignorant to it. 

Varian took her hand, wanting to laugh at how small her hands were in his own, and squeezed softly. “Thank you for accepting my son,” he said deeply. “But I also want you to know I’m here for you. Don’t be scared to talk to me about anything at all, no matter how silly it is—even if you just want to complain about something to do with him that annoys you. I want you to feel part of this family.”

Eryn felt her heart melt as she stared up at the king. Part of the family. She felt so incredibly honoured to even be considered included within their family, as broken as it was. What star had she been born under that this would be her fate? Yes, she’d lost so much, and had gone through some awful things but she’d survived, and because of those things, she had met the most amazing person. She thought of him and smiled. Anduin. How could she not accept him? When she returned from Northrend, she was no longer going to hold back with him. She would tell him exactly how she felt, be open with him, more affectionate.

Perhaps she’d beat him to it and ask him to be her boyfriend. She felt almost giddy at the idea, and despite the looming sense of dread which seemed to come from the letter which lay on Varian’s desk, she found that she was happy.


	6. VI: HERE LIES THE ABYSS

Eryn had begun to understand what Anduin liked so much about the sunrise.

For the past few weeks she’d woken up at the crack of dawn so that she could be ready for a busy day, and she’d ended up seeing the sunrise from Stormwind more than she had before. It wasn’t that she’d never seen it before, in fact it was something she’d enjoyed a lot in Theramore, but there was something about it now that captivated her so. Perhaps it was the promise of a beautiful day, or the soft birdsong as she ate her breakfast in silence. Or, maybe, it was because everything seemed so new and so different since her confession to Varian, as if she was seeing everything with new eyes. She’d spoken with Anduin before she’d retired to bed the previous night, and nothing had felt different then; perhaps it was because her mind was consumed with thoughts of the letter, or maybe she’d just slept on it and it had sunk in. She’d seen girls in love before, how giggly they could be, how they always smiled. They’d seemed silly to her, she’d never understood it. But now—it could be storming outside and she was positive it would still have been a beautiful day.

Alchos was silent, no matter how many questions she had for him. He wasn’t ignoring her—he just didn’t know, and he’d gone silent to ‘think’. It was strange, how it worked. Anduin had some ideas too, though he was mostly curious if she’d invite her brother back. He was getting ahead of himself, she thought, there was still no proof they were truly related yet. The king was more practical about it, asking if she would be safe, if she wanted a guard with her—but she’d dismissed his concerns. If she was in danger she could protect herself, and besides, she wanted to meet him in private first. Just them.

“You’re already awake, why am I not surprised?”

Eryn glanced over at the doors and smiled. “Your majesty.”

The old wolf’s nose crinkled up as he approached and took his usual seat. “Just Genn is fine. I’ve told you before.”

“Yes, but it is quite amusing how both kings here absolutely disdain their title,” she laughed.

He took her in, eyes looking her up and down, and then he frowned deeply. “You seem rather calm for what you’re about to do.”

“It troubled me to begin with,” she said, pouring tea for the pair of them. “I was upset—suddenly I might have a brother, which means my father cheated on my mother. Or, well… I don’t know how it worked out—there could be a reasonable explanation.”

“And if there isn’t?”

Eryn’s lips pursed out and she cleared her throat. “I decided it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change who I am, does it?”

Genn chuckled, giving her a small smile. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.” He sipped his tea and sighed deeply. “Mia wanted to come see you off,” he started. “But Tess came in this morning all teary eyed.”

“Is she okay?” Eryn asked quickly. She’d not spoken much with the princess, she had a distinct feeling she wasn’t too fond of her. 

“Yes, just problems with Lorna, apparently they argued something rotten last night and now she won’t talk to her.”

A pause. “They… are together?” Eryn asked, her brows knitting together. 

Genn snorted. “No, she is too stubborn and proud to admit she likes her. She’s always attending balls with noble boys she can’t stand just to upset Lorna.”

Eryn grimaced. She couldn’t imagine doing that to Anduin, but then she reminded herself she’d pushed him away and already hurt him so much. She stirred some more sugar into her tea and yawned. She wanted to see him, but he was probably asleep. He’d had a lot of work late last night, she was positive he was passed out on his desk. It didn’t matter, she guessed, she wouldn’t be gone long—maybe a day or two. With the portal and the iron horde, she doubted he’d have time to miss her.

“When are you leaving?” Genn asked as Varian strode into the room. Eryn tried not to laugh; Varian looked like he’d had such a poor night of sleep, his hair was messier than ever, and one of the buttons on his sleeve was done up wrong. “Bad night?”

Varian grunted, sitting down at his usual spot at the breakfast table. He liked the spot that the sun had already passed over, the one which was warm, but not blinding. Eryn had learned that quick. “Khadgar reckons the time to strike will be soon. Mathias was keeping me posted all evening with updates.”

Garrosh. Eryn sighed, brushing some of her hair from her face. “I can still not go-“

“No,” he said quickly. “You’ve been doing a lot of work, and I did promise you wouldn’t be expected here all the time. You’ve been doing more work than simple advisor even would take on.”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t mind.”

He stared at her like she was crazy and laughed softly. “I know you don’t, which is precisely why you should go. Before you realise how awful it is and then have no time at all.”

The three of them laughed.

“I’m leaving after breakfast,” she said, answering Genn’s original question. “I already magicked my things off to my apartments in Dalaran.” Jaina’s former apartments, since she had new ones as leader of the Kirin’Tor, she’d given Eryn her old ones, with the reasoning that her apprentice had made them more of a home than she ever had. “I just need to whip up a portal.”

A bird landed on the windowsill and she watched it idly as she ate her food. Things were so… normal. Like she fit right in, like she had always been here. Theramore had been normal, too, but it wasn’t—this. It wasn’t the family she’d wanted. Jaina had, indeed, been like a sister to her but… she’d always wanted more.

“Not going to see Anduin before you leave?” Varian asked, a sly look upon his face.

She wanted to, that’s what she wanted to say, but instead she shook her head. “He’s probably asleep.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

The mage shot him a look and both kings laughed. The idea she would even go to his quarters while he was sleeping—in fact, be in his quarters at all—it felt so… so much like they were breaking a rule. Just the idea—she gulped down, mumbling to herself as she finished off her tea. The door opened again and she looked up to find Anduin stood there, hair still a mess from sleeping, and still mostly in his night clothes, but--

Surely, he shouldn't make her breath stop like this. All he was doing was standing there, eyes intent on her. Something had changed; was it because she'd admitted how she felt? Even if not to him-- she would tell him when she returned, when she didn't have to go off again, when they could spend time being together.

Wordlessly, Anduin approached her and took her hand, pulling her into the corridor; she heard Varian chuckle, but she didn't care. "Did you think I wouldn't see you off?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper as he stared down at her. He raised his hand to brush her cheek with his knuckles. 

Eryn beamed at him. "Your hair is getting longer," she whispered running her fingers through it. "I like it." She looked him up and down, frowning. When she'd first met him, they'd been similar heights, but now-- and he was still growing. "Every day you get taller," she laughed, hitting his chest playfully, frowning at how firm it was. He just watched her. "I'm going to come back to find you turned into a vrykul like your father."

"Hopefully you won't be gone that long," he murmured. 

“So you do plan on turning into one," she laughed, wanting to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. The first time she'd kiss him... but she knew if she did so, she wouldn't be able to leave. She would never be able to tear herself from him. Eryn inhaled. "This is the last time I plan on going anywhere if I can help it."

"What?" he asked, surprise in his voice.

She nodded, smiling up at him. "Stormwind is home now, there are plenty of people here I can help." She breathed out, wanting to close the gap between them. Could he sense it? That she felt more open with him? If he begged right now... 'don't go' she didn't think she could fight him on it, she'd stay, but she knew he wouldn't ask, and it was probably for the best. Eryn hummed, moving her hand to rest on his cheek. "Grow any taller and I'll need to stand on tip toes to do this."

Anduin had never felt Eryn was tiny, not like other people would often say, but he was suddenly so aware of it. He moved his hand from her face to rest on top of her hand and he was stuck by how small it was. He didn't think he'd grown that much-- but perhaps she was right. If she didn't grow anymore, by the time he stopped growing... perhaps she'd just about reach his chest. She was so small, and the urge to protect her grew. He was going to become that man, the one she could rely on, the one who could protect her fully. "Hurry home," he said quietly, eyes dropping to her lips. He wanted to kiss her, the two times he'd done it had not been enough, instead they just hooked him and made him want to kiss her more. He breathed out, closing his eyes and just enjoying her presence. She smelled like apples these days, less like the sea, gentler and more floral. Softer. Yes, that was the word. The past few weeks she'd become softer. He wondered what had caused it but decided it didn't matter; if she was happy, if she'd found peace within herself, he was glad to accept it.

"I will," she said, trying to keep her voice even. If he heard the slight quiver to her tone he didn't indicate anything. Eventually he let her go, chuckling when he heard her sigh. It wasn't like her to crave physical interaction. What had changed? Maybe they were just both older, maybe they were more aware of it. He would turn twenty soon. Twenty. And she would be just after him. 

The prince's eyes trailed her, taking in her clothes. Warm for the coldness of Northrend, but a pretty dress more than a robe. She'd done her hair, too, clipped the front parts back with a blue jewelled clip which had a lion on it. He wanted to grin, the colour suited her well. It was just as well, he supposed, she'd probably wear a lot of it in the future. Around her neck hung the locket he'd given her, and he smiled warmly; hoping she would never take it off. He knew she’d accompany it with the traveling cloak she’d taken from En’Je’s place all that time ago, she seemed to favour how large it was since she either wore that one, or robes which already had hoods on them. He wondered why she liked being so unseen but realised she just didn’t enjoy being centre of attention. If she could go out and have no one recognise her, she was happy. Eryn was outgoing, she liked people, but perhaps she enjoyed being alone in a crowd far more than being part of the crowd. He would miss her dearly, he’d gotten so used to having her around. But this was important, how could he protest her going over something so significant? He wished he could go with her, even if he just waited for her in Dalaran, but he had to stay in Stormwind. His father had no clue if he would be needed to leave any time soon, and so Anduin had to be there, ready, in case he had to take up his father’s duties. Maybe he should ask her not to go, even if this was the last time; why couldn't this guy come here? Where it was safe for both? If it was a trap—

Anduin breathed out. Eryn would come back to him. 

She had to.

* * *

Dalaran’s usual hum of magical energy and the scent of her most favourite pastries from Ami’s stall greeted her the moment Eryn appeared within Dalaran. It was already a hive of activity and she found herself smiling as she weaved through the crowds to greet Jaina first. She wondered if her former master would even receive her. She tried to steel her heart, to not let it bother her, yet she knew the disappointment was clear on her face when she only found Kalec waiting for her. He held a book in his hand, the one she’d requested about demonic magic.

“Kalecgos,” she said, trying to muster up a smile.

“I tried,” he said, giving her an apologetic smile. “She will come around eventually. Here,” he offered her the book. “I trust that you will not use it for shady purposes.”

Eryn chuckled deeply. “I wanted to carry on what I was learning when I was at the portal with Archmage Khadgar,” she said softly. “The legion could be a threat at any time.”

“It is wise to always be prepared,” he said. “Speaking of which, you are prepared for your journey?”

“I’m only going to Amberpine,” she sighed. “I’m leaving my things here, I’m planning on staying here over night.”

“Let me rephrase,” he paused. “Are you prepared for what might happen?”

Could she be? Eryn didn’t reply, instead vanished the book to the dinner table within her apartments, ready for her to read that evening. She’d hoped Jaina would be here to offer her some support as if she was a child who still needed someone to hold her hand. Eryn’s shoulders fell, shaking her head to rid the thoughts from her. “I’m glad she has you,” She said softly. Jaina had lost much already; someone as caring and as constant as Kalecgos would be good for Jaina. Maybe he could get through to her, if not for her sake, but for Varian and Anduin, both had been hurt by her transformation. They understood it, of course they did, but she hadn’t heard Anduin say ‘aunt Jaina’ in a while.

Only once had Eryn ever ventured to the Grizzly Hills. Her trips to Northrend usually consisted of her staying within Dalaran, or a few times venturing out to leylines on research or for favours. Dragonblight was an unforgiving place, and she was glad she would avoid it this trip. And yet—the closer she got to her destination, the more apprehensive she began to feel.

What was he like? How would she find him? How would she even go about this?

She had so many more questions, too; why had his mother brought him here, of all places? It was a beautiful place to be sure, but if they’d been fleeing the scourge then perhaps they would have gone south instead, not to Northrend where the scourge came from. Maybe there was extended family—or maybe—

Maybe they looked alike.

Eryn froze, watching a hunter play with his dog. They had the same nose, the same gentle jaw. The same lips—she could see her father in him. She let out a deep breath and pulled her hood up, suddenly not wanting him to recognise her. She wanted to talk with him first, to see who he was before she let herself be known. She couldn’t explain the apprehension, one which got worse when she felt Alchos reaching out. What was he picking up on?

She should turn around.

That was what she thought.

But he looked up at her, and with a warm smile, approached. “Hello, traveller. You’re new to these parts.”

“Yes,” she said, thinking quickly. “I am on a research trip.” Not a lie. She felt her lips tug a smile at the private joke.

Damien laughed freely with her. He was good looking, she thought, for once thankful her lilac eyes were not her mothers. She knew they unnerved people when they peered out from below her hood—

“Meeting your brother is research, huh?”

How did he know?

It felt like the air got kicked from her lungs—“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I just-“ she pulled her hood down, moving closer to him. “Wanted to see who you were before… I mean…” she wrung her hands together and chewed the inside of her mouth. 

“I get it,” he said calmly. “I’m not offended. I’m just glad you decided to come, even if it is without notice.”

How did he know it was her?

Something nagged at her.

_ Do not trust him. _

It was funny. Anduin’s two words the previous night had shaken her as much as those four had. Anduin’s had been soft, a promise of love and someone to return to. This—Alchos was warning her. What had he felt with him? Her heart beat in her ears, trying to sense the danger and trying to find a way out. Warning, her head screamed at her. Get out.

Alchos guided her magical senses. He was keeping it suppressed, but there it was—the faintest trace of a powerful magic, and then another-

Blood magic.

Her heart hammered and she stuttered, taking a step back. She fell on a rock, would have hit the floor had Damien not caught her suddenly. She wanted to yell at him, tell him to get away, restrain him, lock him up—but he didn’t smell like a blood mage and—

Perhaps she could play along. Get him off guard, find proof and lure him into a trap. She’d send word to Mathias and Varian when she got back to Dalaran later, ask for their help. For now… it was better to keep an eye on him. She expected there to be pain in this, in losing a brother she’d only just gained, but she’d been without him her entire life—why would this matter?

_ Good,  _ Alchos’ voice came, full of pride and amusement she noted. _You finally learned to think first. This one is dangerous. He is full of magic that does not belong to him._

What on earth did that mean? Eryn let go of his hand quickly, giving him a smile and gripping onto Arcalima tightly. The jewel at the top had been so bright recently, but whether it sensed her doubt or was reacting to him, it flickered and grew dimmer. Alchos was hard to follow, throwing all the information he could at her, yet she could barely make sense of it, because he, too, did not understand what was going on.

“I hope I haven’t caught you on a busy day,” she said gently, eyeing up the dog.

“Not at all, the wind isn’t right for hunting today. So, you’re just in luck,” he smiled back at her and offered her his arm. She should take it, she knew, but she felt hesitant in it. Had he killed people? But Mathias had people here checking on him, if there had been anything out of the ordinary they would have known. Slowly, Eryn took his arm and walked with him. “This is Bill.”

“The dog is called Bill?”

He chuckled. “After my uncle.”

Silence. The unspoken questions flittered between them. Despite the power he wielded, the evil magic he had somehow come to possess, they shared a father. And she wanted to know how. Eryn sighed, looking around the house he lived in. It was quaint. 

“This was my uncle’s house, my mother brought us here when the scourge became a problem,” he said deeply. “He died a few years ago. Now my mother’s gone, it’s mine.”

“I’m sorry about your mother,” she frowned. She was, no one deserved that.

He smiled. “Thank you. But she was very sick for some time-“ she felt her heart relax, if that was the truth then perhaps he hadn’t killed her as she was starting to feel—or had he? There was danger everywhere. She had to get him out of here, take him to neutral territory. “I’m afraid I have nothing to offer-“

And there was her chance.

“My apartments in Dalaran are well stocked,” she said brightly. “I can take us right there, perhaps send for some of my favourite of Ami’s pastries. My room is just above her stall, so it always smells wonderful.”

“Do you speak fast when you’re nervous?” he laughed. “I guess you should be.” Eryn raised an eyebrow. “Well, I just mean, you don’t know anything about me, or how I came to exist.”

She felt much safer when they were in Dalaran, and wondered if perhaps Kalec or Jaina would be able to feel he strange magic and come aid her. Yet even Alchos was having difficulty finding it, for it was so buried deep within him. For a moment she pondered if maybe he was just unaware of his magical powers, but Alchos pointed out that magic seemed to flow into his hands when he didn’t focus. A sure sign of a practiced mage who was used to always having magic there.

“Nice place,” he muttered, and she wondered if the tinge to his words came from anger or something else. 

“They used to be Jaina’s rooms,” she said. “She’s my former teacher. She gave these to me when I became a full mage and moved to Dalaran to study. I don’t spend much time here, though. Dalaran gives me a headache. Stormwind is much nicer.”

“And you grew up in Stormwind?”

“Theramore,” she said, her voice breaking. “What about you? I mean…” she frowned. “I don’t know much about my mother and father, she died when I was born, and father… he died when I was young, too. And he was still in so much pain he couldn’t talk about her. I don’t know how long they were together or—or anything.”

Damien nodded, sipping at the tea. His nose wrinkled, and she laughed softly, offering him some sugar to add to it. She’d assumed he’d take his more like Genn, strong with no sugar, but perhaps she was wrong. “Your parents were together when I was born,” he said simply. “Mother spoke little of the details, I don’t know how it happened, but she spoke of it as though it was a one-time thing. He loved his wife too much to leave her.”

“And yet he cheated on her,” she said, her voice strained. How could you love someone deeply and do that to them? Did her mother know? Had it broken her heart? So many questions. 

“I don’t know the details, I only ever asked about him,” he paused. “What do you remember of him?”

The mage sighed, moving to the window to stare down at the cobbled streets. Apprentices running to and forth, a few patrons drunkenly falling from the inn, some travellers, too. What were their stories?, she wondered. Who were they? “Not much,” she answered quietly. “He was hard working, and he gave up our life just to find me the education I needed. It took us a while to get to Theramore. Lady Jaina was good to him, gave him somewhere to live and work. He was kind, just… broken. My mother’s death hurt him.” She glanced over at him. “He never told me how she died, I found out myself about a year ago actually, but looking back, I think part of him struggled to look at me because of it. He loved me, though.”

“I doubt he would have cared for me,” he muttered, glaring into his teacup as though it had offended him. “I would have ruined that happy marriage.”

She wanted to say it wasn’t true, that perhaps in her mother’s death, another woman and a son would have been the right thing to fix him. Companionship. She realised that perhaps he’d died a very guilt-ridden man, he’d always seemed so old to her, always, even when she was young with no concept of what age really was. Perhaps he’d carried this burden with him the entire time, that he had cheated on his wife who had died giving birth to their daughter. Her mouth felt dry.

Damien stared at her, large brown eyes sincere and apologetic. “We should talk about something else. I’d… like for us to be close if possible. Tell me about you.”

Eryn made her way back to the table, fingers running along the edge of the book she’d sent up before clasping around the edges. “What would you like to know?” She paused, staring at the empty vase and magicking up some flowers. “Sorry, it was so… boring in here.”

He looked surprised. “Magic always startles me.”

Her lip curled. Liar, she wanted to yell at him.

“How about Stormwind. You live there? What do you do?”

“I travelled a bit, studied with another mentor,” she smiled, hoping Khadgar would be safe whatever lay beyond the portal. He’d been given all manner of protection she knew, but… that crazy old man… she’d be sad if he got hurt. “Losing Theramore really hit me hard, so I went to do some soul searching I guess. Now I have a place on the king’s council as his advisor on magical issues, though mostly I just do his paperwork he has no time to do.”

Damien’s eyes grew wider. “You work for the king?”

Whether that was sincere or not she could not tell, and it unsettled her to think that had it not been for Alchos, she would never have been aware that every single word he’d said was a lie so far. She gripped the book tighter. “I guess you can say that. Lady Jaina educated me for the position since I joined her. I became friends with the prince.”

He looked troubled by this and she wondered if he truly did not know, or perhaps if it upset his plan somehow. What was his plan? She didn’t want to know—she just wanted to know if he was guilty and to deal with it. Then, she felt something. A spike of power from him—one that terrified her. It was strong indeed, laced with power she’d never felt before—her heart beat and she felt cold. He could not be allowed to carry on, and yet she could not confront him here. There were too many people who could get hurt. 

“Is there a title I’m supposed to address you by?” he frowned.

“I’m actually not sure,” she murmured. “Usually I’m addressed simply as ‘Lady Eryn’, though I’m no noble, and I don’t care about titles at all.” He breathed out and she sighed, wanting to change the topic; this one seemed to unsettle him. “Do you have any other family? A girlfriend?”

“No,” he said shortly. “No one. You?”

She opened her mouth to reply yes but something stopped her. Perhaps it had been unwise, too, to mention her position. If he wanted power… there would be no one better to use than her. The thought of him using her to get to Anduin—she felt sick and she shook her head, gulping down the guilt that came from the lie. Anduin wouldn’t know she’d denied his existence, but she would make it up to him anyway. “No. I like books more than romantic interests.” 

They were getting too familiar, she thought. Too relaxed, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up. The right thing would be to carry on, to contact someone—even go and ask Kalec right now for help, but… but she just wanted to go home, to hear Anduin’s voice call her name and to tell him she loved him. She should deal with it now, before things got worse. Take him by surprise.

“There is a place in Dragonblight I wish to visit,” She spoke, her voice strained. 

“Dragonblight? There’s nothing there.”

Precisely, she thought. “There was a crop of ice near a chasm that was touched by the magic of blue dragons. I found it on my last trip there, it was beautiful and I want to see whether it’s still there and to see if it has any unique powers.”

That she could lie so easily disturbed her and before he could reply, or the guilt could give her away, she turned to grab her cloak and her staff. She’d surprise him, capture him, bring him back for questioning. Hopefully there would be no reason to fight. But something unsettled her, and it unsettled Alchos too. Damiens magic fluctuated a lot, and none of it felt like him. Perhaps it was the means he’d learned blood magic, if he had-

_ Or he steals magic from mages. _

That was possible? She paused, drawing the portal for them both up slowly.

_ Possible, yes, but I’ve seldom heard of mortals having the power. The legion has similar powers, though theirs locks down power more than steals it.  _

Like a siphon? She thought, like some magical vampire?

_ It is more intricate and less barbaric, _ Alchos muttered, sounding absolutely insulted she’d compare it to such things. _Be very wary of him, child, I don’t disagree this is your best plan without waiting for others but can we afford to wait for that?_

She didn’t need to ask why she felt his worries; that he would take her magic, that he’d run off and hide if she let anything slip. She needed to act fast. “You first,” She said, trying to keep her face and voice even as she motioned to the portal.

Dragonblight was bitterly cold and she was thankful for the warmth of the cloak. Strangely beautiful in a way, but tragic, too. Littered with the bones of long dad dragons. Wyrmrest stood high in the middle, able to be seen from everywhere. The wind was violent, whipping at her cheeks as she walked along to find an outcropping similar to what she’d mentioned. She waited, wondering if he would attack, but he followed her along silently. If he knew what she was up to, he’d defend himself right? If his intention was to attack, he’d do it right now.

“I know,” she said deeply, standing on the edge of the peak that overlooked the gorge she’d led him to. She always found this place deserted and she couldn’t carry on this charade anymore. She needed to confront him, and if it came to a fight, no one would get hurt here. “I know you know about blood magic.”

To her surprise he didn’t look phased just… relieved. He laughed, and it was cold and unfamiliar. She reminded herself; no one got a happy ending.She was a fool to let her guard down. “I suppose Alchos told you that?”

She tried not to let the shock show.

“What? Surprised I know?” He laughed deeply. “Little sister, I was so worried when I heard about your connection to the prince. Oh, how could I lure you out here, hmm? That king would know everything about who I was, where I’d been. It was so easy to fake it all, to let those pesky agents see what I wanted them to see, hear what I wanted them to.”

Eryn stared at him disgusted. “You controlled their minds?”

“To a fashion, it was less control and more influence,” he smiled at her, it was cruel and sadistic. “Unfortunately, since Mafyr was dealt with, my own magic has been too weak.”

“It should have been destroyed entirely when he was,” she said, a growling sound coming from her chest. She had to stop him.

“I… have a friend. Or should I say had a friend,” he said, giving her a sly grin. “She was very nice.” Was, Eryn noted; had he killed her? “She told me marvellous secrets about all different kings of magic. I wanted to know it all—I desired to find something powerful. Blood magic was out of the question, but she taught me the ritual.”

“How did she know it? You’re lying.”

“Am I?” he laughed. “She knew a lot about magic, she was an expert.” He seemed to enjoy his own joke because he smirked deeply, raising his fingers to brush his hair back from his eyes. Snow was sticking to the brown strands. “What interested me most was the magic you wield. She told me all about the elemental, yes.”

And how did she know? Eryn thought rather that his friend was more dangerous. What if she was a spy? Someone at court? Was Anduin in danger? Varian? Genn? Mia? “And what do you want from me? Blood?”

“Oh no, dear girl,” he said quickly. “Blood magic is so primitive. Why would I use such a barbaric thing when I can just take the power I want from you?” She didn’t follow, instead stared at him with narrow eyes. He moved forward—and she gasped when runes appeared on his hands. “I hope this won’t kill you, that would be terribly sad.”

It happened before she could do anything. His magic struck her, and she screamed in pain. It was like everything was being ripped from her—everything that made her… her. It wasn’t even slow—it was quick. She had no time to try and grab the things that flew from her, the colour magic brought to the world, the unique scents that belonged to magic—and other things. Corel’s laughter, stargazing in the barrens, his conviction and hope for his people—it was going. 

She should have waited, sent word, gotten help—she wanted to ask Alchos what to do but to her shock she felt his power lessening; he was… taking Alchos from her? She struggled to get a grip, she felt him fighting back too but—what was this spell? How did he know it? She should try and summon her strength, try and portal away—she had to get to Dalaran. She had to go home.

Eryn heard a crack from the ice as she sunk to her knees, too weak to fight back. Instead she focused on trying to save whatever she could. When she couldn’t grab onto pieces of magic she tried memories. Kisses, the moonlit Nayeli Lagoon, a broken body of a prince—and when that didn’t work she tried people. One person. Golden haired and beautiful, gentle and warm, blue eyes full of worry. She had to go home to him, she had to tell him she loved him.

The ice below her gave way and her body crashed into the snow below her. With no strength left at all, she was unable to move from the snow which fell on top of her, burying most of her body. 

Damien laughed deeply, magic crackling around his hands and entering his body—oh this power! It was far greater than anything else he’d picked up. He felt it almost consume him, it was dangerous, he’d have to control it—his eyes, now a vibrant shade of lilac, moved to where his sister had been at the edge of the peak. It had gone, caved away with the force of the magic. He moved closer to the edge, carefully, and peered down.

Eryn lay there, pale and still, lips parted and partially covered in snow.

He watched her for a few moments, wondering if he should perhaps check to see if she was alive, but thought better of it and turned away. What could she do against him now he had the elemental? Now that she was nothing? No one was going to stop him now.

Was this it? Would she freeze to death here? Eryn groaned, trying to move or anything but she was so drained, and so cold—Arcalima was gone and though she tried magic to push away the snow, nothing happened. She couldn’t even recall the spell she should use. It seemed funny but she was starting to forget her own name. In some ways it felt blissful- the pain of Theramore faded as did all memories of her home. But she couldn’t forget him—she wouldn’t let those go—

She had to stay awake, to get home to him. Even if she didn’t know her own name she had to know him; had to remember him. 

“Anduin,” she whispered weakly, feeling her eyes close.

Blue eyes and a gentle smile.

Blue eyes.

Nothing.


	7. VII: Worth Trying?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! I've been caught up playing other games and just taking a creative break and writing things for other games that well, I won't publish but xD haha. Anyway this chapter and the rest might be a bit shorter than previously, but I don't have much time to write them and I'd rather get them out quickly.

**ERSTWHILE**  
PART TWO  
Solivagant

In his long life, Tarogos had seen much change to Northrend. Malygos, the scourge—those had been the worst ones. It seemed some form of luck that Northrend remained untouched by the cataclysm, and even more so that Garrosh Hellscream had never turned his attention to the North. There was nothing here, he supposed. Nothing but snow and undead and the bones of dragons.

Well, it was a good thing Garrosh had no idea what had been locked within the vault at the Nexus. 

Yet, still, Tarogos had spent much of his life inside, tending to said vault. It was his pride and joy; cataloguing everything. For a time, he had agreed much with Malygos’ opinion on the mortals usage of magic, until his brother and his mate had changed his mind. He smiled as he thought of them. It had been some time since he’d last seen Kalec, perhaps he should visit Dalaran.

But his thoughts turned foul when they turned to his mate, Aurigosa. His Auri. So open, so trusting, so loving of the mortal races—she had gone. Vanished. It had been months and he’d seen no trace of her, felt her magic nowhere. He abandoned his post in the Nexus to search for her, vowing he wouldn’t return until she was back… or he had an answer. 

There had been no sign, until now. He’d sensed it, a tremor of impressive magic, a tear in the nether. It alarmed him, especially when it was tinged with his Auri’s magic. He found nothing though, even as he reached the spot magic had been used. The area crackled, it was unsettled and unnatural here. What could cause such a thing? A tear to the nether? 

Tarogos’ eyes narrowed as he landed into his human form to look around. Footprints, but none of them were leading to or from the point—and the edge of the ice had fallen off. He paused. Mages fighting, perhaps? But if any mage had that power—and it didn’t explain why he’d felt her. 

A flash caught his eye and he bent down to inspect the strangely glowing snow. A staff—no… not just any staff. Arcalima. He gasped, holding it gently. Such a marvel! He’d always longed to see it in person, he’d read of it’s beauty, what was it doing here? Didn’t it have a mortal owner? That was what he’d heard at least. 

Something wasn’t right. He reached out, sensing the magic in the air and recoiling—it was strange, unnatural, and somehow twisted with Aurigosa’s magic. No other Blue Dragon had gone missing, that he knew of anyway, what if—he inhaled—what if someone was attacking them now they were weakened? Taking their magic?

This was bigger than he thought. Tarogos gripped the glowing staff tightly and returned into his massive dragon form and headed for Dalaran, Kalecgos had to be told—he’d wanted no one else involved, but this—

He did not notice the staff grow dimmer the further he flew away with it.

The sun was bright overhead, glistening off the snow.

Everything was still.

A girl opened her blue eyes, staring up at the clear sky. She was cold, soaked through from snow—why was she on the floor under it? She would surely get sick—how hadn’t she already? She sat up quickly, though regretted it when blood rushed to her head. It hurt, bruised—her whole body hurt and—

Her head.

Who was she?

Where was she?

Why was she there?

Her hands went to her neck, searching for something which should be there but—she gulped down, pushing herself to her feet and frantically digging through the snow. There was nothing—maybe—maybe she was just mistaken but—

“What on earth are you doing down there, lass?”

Her head snapped up to stare at the dwarf who peered down at her. “Excuse me?”

“That’s no place to be exploring, especially without a weapon-“ he paused, smacking his lips together. “How did you get down-“ he eyed up the snow. “Did you fall?”

“I-I don’t know,” She called back. “I…” she looked to the other side of the ravine, it sure seemed like there had been a collapse. Had she been on top? What a stupid thing to do, she thought. Had she hit her head?

“Lass?” The dwarf called. When she didn’t reply he grunted. “’Ere, I’ll chuck you a rope and you can climb up. We can get you something to drink.”

Should she trust him? She had no clue who he was—no clue who she was. But there was nowhere to go, was someone looking for her? It terrified her to think that someone could be searching for her, that someone was waiting, and she wouldn’t know—and something felt… missing. Other than her memories, as if—

The blue-eyed girls hands reached in front of her, as though she was expecting something to happen. Odd. She was positive hands didn’t feel so… still? Then again, what did she know? Nothing. Hopefully it was temporary. Perhaps she had just hit her head. Yeah! Just amnesia, someone could cure it. Surely, she came from a town close? Someone would know her!

So, she decided to trust the dwarf, feeling somewhat relieved to be back on top of the ravine again. He was accompanied by a female gnome and a male human who seemed to be setting up a camp. “At least you’re dressed for the cold,” the gnome said cheerily. “I’m Tymee, pleased to meet you! This is Mack, since he was so rude to not introduce himself-“ she sighed, giving the dwarf a side glance. “The human behind is Martin, he doesn’t speak. He never speaks. Just stares.”

“That’s unsettling-“

“Are you telling people lies again, Ty?” Martin yelled. “Stop doing that!”

The gnome laughed mischievously, giving the girl a grin. “Who are you?”

“I-I don’t know,” she said quickly, wringing her hands together to resist the urge to find whatever should be about her neck. “I don’t know anything—I must have fallen and hit my head.”

Tymee pursed her lips out. “Well it was very stupid of you to be so close to the edge.”

The girl smiled sheepishly. “Maybe someone at a nearby town knows me?”

Mack grunted, unstopping a skin of his favourite ale and gulping it down. “You want Wintergarde then, it’s not too far. That or Wyrmrest, though I can’t think anyone at the dragon temple would know you-“ he paused, eyeing her up. “Unless you’re a dragon.”

“A dragon?” she asked curiously, then frowned. “No… I don’t… think I am?” she sighed, shaking her head. Her hands came up to her neck.

“Missing something?” A pause. “Apart from your memories.”

The girl gave the gnome a small smile. “I… think so? There should be something here… something important—” she let out a deep sigh, kicking some snow back into the ravine. She couldn’t explain the sudden anger spurred on by a deep sadness, a feeling that—“I just… there’s somewhere I have to be, someone I have to go back to—but back to where?”

Tymee gave her a sympathetic smile and hobbled over. “It’ll be okay. You are expecting too much too soon. You need to get your head looked at, seems you took a good fall, nice bruise.”

She wanted to smile, but—

She couldn’t explain it. How… dark the world seemed. As though there was nothing in front of her—perhaps it was just her memories being absent, but… She felt a deep sadness, suddenly so alone in the world, so swallowed up by the abyss that she was suddenly so aware of. Had it always been there?

She sat with the three, listening to them talk. Sometimes replying if they suggested something to her—Martin would show her to Wintergarde, he needed to pick up supplies—Tymee’s cousin was a priest in some place called ‘Stormwind’ perhaps she could do something—Mack suggested alcohol—

She tried to remember, but every time she thought she saw a flash of purple or blue—sometimes yellow—it would go again so quickly. And something else, too, like a horrible feeling that maybe she shouldn’t remember. As if there was a misery to those memories that her mind was glad to have been let go of.

“You have a dagger in your boot,” Tymee said, staring at her. “You’re dressed very well, noble? And your hairclip seems expensive, too,” she was deducing her, trying to narrow it down to where she should search. “But you have no other weapon… you’re no rogue or warrior… maybe just a traveller, but…” her brows furrowed. “But then it’s very silly of you to travel with only a dagger.”

“Maybe she’s a mage?” Martin suggested.

“There’s no staff,” Mack grunted, already quite drunk.

“Oh don’t be stupid,” Tymee snapped at him, snatching the ale and drinking it herself. “Mages don’t need staves, but you think she’d sense the magic if she was a mage, no?” She looked up at the human, eyes wide with curiosity. “Do you?”

Did she?

She thought.

There was the odd lack of feeling in her hands, but maybe that was the cold? There was nothing. She searched everywhere she thought magic could be—but it was still, dormant. She tried not to feel disappointed over it, but—

All she wanted to do was run away and cry. It seemed such childish behaviour, she knew that, but she didn’t want to deal with it, she was tired, and she didn’t know why. It was as if something had entirely drained her, emotionally and physically, as if she just didn’t have it in her to fight against further hard times.

Did she really want her memories back?

Someone was waiting for her… but if there was so much pain in the past, was that person worth it?

Maybe not.

Maybe being someone new would be better.

Was it even worth trying?

She could be someone new, remake herself—whoever she was before, maybe it didn’t matter. It was a shocking relief to think that, and though she tried to move herself off the edge of the abyss that lingered near her, it seemed to follow her, or else grow to reach her. Maybe it would go away—when she was calm, when she was rested, when she found somewhere, when she had a name—

Perhaps whoever she was, perhaps it wasn’t worth it. Whatever had been around her neck… it meant a lot—did she want to stay out here looking for it for hours? Would it have answers? Did she want them? A person was waiting for her.

What would happen if she didn’t go back to them?

Would they think she died or she ran away? 

Her heart panged at both idea—did she care for them? So much so that she didn’t want them to be in pain for either of those reasons?

The sun was high in the sky, bouncing and glinting off the snow. This place was beautiful, she supposed if she had died in the ravine, at least she would have died in a nice place. Perhaps she had died, it seemed like it—being… born again, was that the term Tymee had used when she’d spoken her thoughts that, perhaps, she should just… restart her life. 

As she left the site with Martin, her skin tingled and she looked behind. As if someone or something was watching her. Yet, Tymee and Mack were the only ones nearby and Tymee was arguing with the dwarf over something—

No one had been watching them.

Slowly, the girl turned and followed her guide towards a new life.

The king of Stormwind was not famed for his patience.

He was a man of action. If something needed doing he would demand it done instantly. He saw no point in inaction—it got people killed. He grunted. Garrosh. Inaction on everyone’s part to deal with him had caused death. Yet, his son had rubbed off on him, given him some peace, learned to have a little patience. He was better with the nobles at court for it.

This was not one of those times.

Eryn had been gone too long. Two weeks.

He’d asked Jaina, but Kalec said she hadn’t returned after meeting her brother. Mathias’ agents were unable to find the brother—

He felt guilty. His son, the one who loved the young mage deeply, was locked in his room with worry, because he had not been careful enough! He should have insisted she have a guard, she was as good as dating his son, she should have been protected— he should have kept eyes on them. It was his fault. His inaction had caused this.

There had been no ransom—she’d just vanished. No trace. Neither Kalec nor Jaina had been able to sense her magic anywhere. He grunted. Jaina blamed herself over it, she was distraught that her former apprentice was hurt or worse, dead, and she’d gone thinking she hated her. Jaina didn’t hate her—she just—just didn’t agree and didn’t understand—and—and—oh it didn’t even matter! Jaina had cried, all that mattered was finding her.

Varian wrung his hands, before running his fingers through his hair. He was stressed, tense. He’d started dining with Genn and Mia since his son wouldn’t leave his room. How was this such a mess? “We should have found her by now,” he grunted as he sat down. He didn’t feel hungry.

Genn sighed. He didn’t disagree—“You don’t think she hid herself?”

“What?” Varian looked shocked. “She ran away on purpose?”

Genn shrugged. “Maybe it was all too much. Court, Anduin. She’s had a hard life, Varian, maybe she wanted to be away from it. Maybe the truth she learned there….”

“Then she should have sent a message,” Varian muttered. “Or she would have returned to her apartments for supplies. According to Jaina she hasn’t been in them since she left, apart from a brief visit. Two cups of tea—” Varian snorted. “The brother, she took him there, I suppose.”

“You suspect him?”

“Of course.”

“And Anduin?”

Varian sighed. “Believes she’s alive, though I don’t share his hope. Northrend is dangerous, even for an adept mage like Eryn. I believe he killed her, or the pair of them died together. Maybe he didn’t plan to, maybe they got into a fight—maybe it was an accident.”

Genn didn’t want to believe that, but… his hands tightened around his soup spoon and he shook his head. They needed answers, all of them, but especially Anduin. If she was gone he needed to greieve, to move on—to repair his heart- oh the poor boy… how was he going to handle it? He was already reclused—

Anduin was walking into the room. Shoulders back, head up. His eyes were dark from lack of sleep, and his hair was a long mess, down from the ponytail he’d been keeping it in—and there was a firm look of resolve upon his face.

“Son?”

Genn watched carefully.

“I had an idea,” Anduin said.

“About-“

“Eryn, yes,” he gulped, motioning to the door. “I have someone to meet with.”

“This time of day?” Varian looked out of the window into the dark sky. “Who on earth?”

“I asked for her as soon as she could get here,” Anduin said. “I only sent the message—” he breathed out. “She was quick.”

“Who?” Varian almost barked.

“Come and meet her with me.”

Genn sighed, waving his friend off to go with his son. Perhaps he did have a good idea, he knew Eryn better than anyone, maybe there was some channel of search they hadn’t exhausted yet. Anything that could bring the prince out of his room was surely something to consider, Genn thought.

Varian wasn’t too sure, but followed his son through to the meeting room anyway. There were a few guards, they looked nervous, he noted. Who was it? What had Anduin done?

In the middle of the room stood a woman with the reddest hair he’d ever seen, and he’d met Rhonin! She was impressive, in a set of heavy armour, a large runeblade lay on the table in the middle with her helmet and gauntlets. A long, black, riding cloak was over the chair she’d obviously been sat in or had been offered. Her eyes were an icy blue—Varian inhaled. “Irina.”

“Your majesty,” She said, and he knew it would have been accompanied by a playful smirk, but instead she was serious. “And your highness.”

“Please, there’s no time for formalities,” Anduin said, moving towards her.

Of course, Varian thought. Who could protect themselves and knew Northrend and Eryn? Someone no one knew was connected to Eryn, if she was being hidden? Irina! How had he not thought of it? Well, probably because he assumed Eryn to be dead. He wanted to excuse her, tell his son to stop this foolish idea, but… but if it had been him and Tiffin he knew he would never have stopped searching until he had at least a body. He needed the closure. 

“Your letter said Eryn was in trouble,” Irina breathed out. “Where is she?”

“We don’t know,” Anduin gulped. He was taller, almost towering over her. When had he grown, Varian thought? When had he become such a… man? His eyes softened. Burdens on his shoulders had strengthened them, the hardships which had tested him had formed him into someone stronger, too. “She went to Northrend to meet with a man who claimed to be her brother. That was two weeks ago. Jaina said she hadn’t been to Dalaran after she’d left. There’s no trace at all.”

“Not even her magic?” Irina said quickly, seeming shocked. “Or her staff? Her magic is unique, even I can feel it’s intricacies.”

“Her magic has entirely vanished,” Varian spoke softly. “No one else has vanished.”

“Not true,” Anduin shot his father a look. “Kalecgos mentioned one of the blue dragons has vanished and his mate-“

“That was ruled out as sinister, Anduin,” Varian sighed. “Kalecgos found her, she died naturally.”

“I don’t believe it,” Anduin muttered. “Her mate was convinced there was more to it, her magic, he said,” Anduin looked back at the death knight. “Just vanished. No trace. He felt a trace sometime after she disappeared, followed it to find what looked to be the scene of a fight.”

“And you think it’s connected?” Irina asked. “I suppose mages and blue dragons do go hand in hand.”

Varian sighed. Anduin was clutching at straws to find any answer, any hope, rather than face the truth. Still. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want her to be dead, he wanted her to be alive, he wanted to find her, so his son would smile again; so that everything would be okay again. 

And yet.

As each day passed, he felt his hope going that he would find her. Irina seemed to be considering Anduin’s theory—maybe she should look into it. Varian frowned. “Our spymaster has been unable to find a trace of even the brother. He lived in Amberpine, but there’s no trace of him, or that he ever existed.”

“That is suspicious,” Irina gulped.

“I would go,” Anduin said. “Find her myself, but…” his shoulders fell. “With everything going on beyond the portal… father may have to leave at any time. I have to stay here… you are the only person left, Lady Irina-“

“Just Irina,” she grimaced. “But I will do anything for Eryn. I have corresponded with her frequently—” Irina paused, smiling weakly. The young girl had brought so much to her, given her a purpose, a belief that she wasn’t a monster. That she had a place in this world, too. She’d begun to remember more of her living life recently, things were better for her. She’d promised Eryn she would be there for her should she ever need it; even if she wanted her to be her bodyguard, she’d do it in an instant. She’d joked one time, in a letter, that being bodyguard to the future queen would be an honour. 

Irina stared at the prince. 

She could see why Eryn liked him. He was warm and gentle, yet firm and bright. The things Eryn needed. Someone who could love her fully, someone who’s light blotted out almost all traces of the darkness that followed her, that lingered behind every step, that gnawed at the edge of each thought. She loved him, Irina had known it for a while even if Eryn had never said anything. It was obvious in the way she wrote about him.

And, watching the worry and yet determined belief in his eyes that she was alive, Irina was certain the young prince loved her, too. He wasn’t going to stop until he got answers, and neither was Irina. The world needed more people like her, and more like the prince, she thought, that this type of loss would change the prince. Maybe it would take away some of his light, some of the hope of the future—

She wouldn’t let it happen.

“I’ll go instantly,” she announced loudly. “I promise you, Anduin, I’ll find her. Even if it takes me to the edge of the world.”


	8. VIII: Ana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :v I really don't like this chapter, but I just feel so uninspired... meeeh. So maybe a gap before the next ones, I want to actually enjoy writing it :v I guess it's because I stopped playing WoW again because :v well, reasons, but meh :vvvv sorry for the absolute poor quality :vvv I mean, less quality than before anyway :vvvv lol

Wintergarde was busier than Ana had expected it to be stuck in the middle of nowhere. Tradesmen and women arrived all the time, selling their wares or trading, and then would return home. Soldiers, people from the ‘Argent Crusade’ who were healing the land. They’d told her everything about the history of the place, including when Naxxramas had lurked above the town. She’d been in awe, and yet shocked that she didn’t seem to remember it at all. It didn’t feel familiar at all.

In the three weeks she’d been within the town, no one had recognised her. Martin had left her to return to the others, but left with a promise that they’d see her at some point if she stayed in Wintergarde. Originally, she’d intended on leaving to seek out answers, but she had no idea where to start and—

And the more she tried to remember the more it felt like she shouldn’t.

So she’d taken the name Ana, the inn keepers wife had given it to her, as well as an offer of a room if she worked in the bar and kitchens. She’d taken the offer, desperate and knowing well enough that she wouldn’t get a better offer. There was nowhere else to go, and if anyone was looking for her, no one had heard of it.

To begin with, Ana had been saddened by the ordeal. Yet, the longer she stayed there, the happier she felt. Laughter came naturally, she found she was a whitty person and she liked to engage in intellectual conversations with patrons in the evening. She would laugh easily, and as the days passed, she felt lighter. Happier.

Did it matter who she was before? She was Ana now, and Ana was happy.

Yet thoughts of whatever had been around her neck didn’t leave; it was important to her and whenever she was caught off guard, the feeling of urgency of finding it crept upon her so much she often felt as though the item itself was strangling her. She decided she’d ask Tymee and Martin when they visited the town, see if they had found anything, or whether they could keep an eye out for her. Maybe it would have a hint of who she was before, too. 

It was the middle of the afternoon when the tall man entered the inn. 

Ana found her eyes drawn to him; dark blue hair, icy blue eyes, and a strange… aura to him. One which—which seemed to draw her to him. He was imposing, held no expression on his face, and spoke very little save for what he needed to order (“A bottle of Dalaran Red.”). But she couldn’t take her eyes from him, her heart would beat strangely, as though reacting to something in him. He didn’t seem to know her, so that couldn’t be it—but….

The feeling of numbness in her hands hadn’t gone, they were always cold and she found herself going to use them in strange ways. They were warmer near him, she felt warmer near him, the world seemed… more colourful near him. As though there were sounds and scents and hidden wonders of the world usually hidden to her eyes.

Ana wanted to talk to him, curious if he couldhold any answers, but she was too occupied with other patrons. A pair of women who visited frequently to eye up a rather good looking soldier—well—Ana didn’t much like him. He was a brunette, and she found she quite liked blondes. Whenever she stared at him she only saw things she didn’t like; his hair was too short, his chin was too small, shoulders not broad enough, not tall enough. As if she had some marker for comparison that she didn’t know of. The soldier was a nice man, shy, and very aware of the women’s gazes. He always tried to put himself around the corner from them, so Ana had started trying to save those tables for him to be put him away from them. She didn’t like them, the way they looked at him as if he were a piece of meat.

Her lips pushed together tightly as she cleaned tables, listening to their chatter. They seemed to be laughing about some woman in the town who had slipped in the snow—cruel women, Ana thought, eyes narrowing. She wished she had the power to kick people out, they were just—

“Ana!”

“Yes!” she called, jumping up and heading into the kitchens.

The innkeepers wife was a lovely woman, Ana decided. She was plump and round and very soft and often got the giggles of the two women in the bar. They would mock her shape, mock her ageing face—it made Ana mad. Marina was a lovely woman, very warm and kind. She’d done nothing but care for her since she’d rolled up into the town as unknowing as she was. “Can you take this out to the tall man at the table by the stairs?” she said, motioning to a tray of food.

“He didn’t order-“

Marina chuckled, wiping her hands on her apron. “He always orders this, he’s a polite young man, make sure to give him a fresh bottle of wine, too,” she smiled sweetly. “And then you come and get food and take a break, too.”

“Of course,” Ana smiled at her, taking the tray out towards the impassive man. She was so entranced by him, as if he were an answer to a question she’d not asked, but she didn’t—couldn’t—it gave her a headache, being closer to him. She must have made an awful face because he raised an eyebrow at her as she put the food down. Suddenly, she felt so light headed and stumbled.

She would have fallen over had he not caught her—the two women giggled, and she swore she heard them call her a name, but—“Do be careful,” he murmured.

“So-sorry,” she said quickly, standing up straight. “I-I’ll just get your wine.”

He stared at her curiously, snatching his hand back before she could rush to the bar. She watched as he stared at his hands, as though he’d been electrocuted or something—he blinked, looking up at her, then at his hands—

“Here,” she said, putting the wine on his table. 

“Who is your master?” he asked suddenly.

“Master?” she repeated, cocking her head to the side.

“Who are you apprenticed to? You’re a mage, no?”

Ana blinked, bringing her hands up so she could chew on her nails. A mage? “No. I-I don’t think so, I certainly don’t… seem to have magic,” she frowned. “I’m sorry I really need some air-“ she looked up as Marina came in, and excused herself, announcing that she’d take the first part of her break outside.

Tarogos watched after her. His hand tingled—the strangest feeling of leylines clung to her like they clung to some mages. But it was untrained, odd. Leymagics were only trained by advanced mages, and yet she was drawing on them and… he breathed out. Since he’d left Dalaran, angry at Kalecgos for shoving aside Aurigosa’s death, he’d stayed away from almost all humans. One of them was responsible for her death, he knew it. When he’d found her body, drained of all magic—

He snapped his head to look after her.

Was she responsible? Was that why she was so nervous around him?

“Marina,” he said deeply, looking up at the tavern keep’s wife. “Who is that new girl?”

“Ana?” The older woman asked, taking the seat next to him. “She came here three weeks ago with Martin—the human with that crazy group of researchers—” she added when she noticed him frown. “They found her down a ravine, no memory at all. Didn’t even know her name… we couldn’t just keep calling her ‘the girl’ so she took the name Ana. She seemed so sad, but she’s a sweet girl.”

“A ravine?” he frowned, thinking back to when he’d sensed Aurigosa’s magic and found Arcalima. He’d not handed it to Kalecgos, not even mentioned it, too enraged at his dismissal. He hadn’t taken it to the vault either, he didn’t want to be around others of his kind. Instead he currently stored it in his magical pack which he’d enchanted with old magic to store larger items. There had been strange magic there, magic similar to this--- he inhaled. Maybe she was responsible, and maybe she was just pretending—

But how could some small human overpower his Aurigosa? She as strong, and this girl looked as if she would blow over at a strong wind. No, this girl wasn’t responsible, but she was involved. He knew that much.

His eyes followed as she returned in, heading to the bar to get a drink for herself. Whisky he noted, and she nursed it slowly in the corner, a dark look upon her face. Troubled, confused, angry--- and her eyes trained upon the two gossiping women. His ears had picked up their conversation long ago but he’d blocked it out as he often did. They seemed to be talking ill of Marina—so she was angry over that.

Tarogos shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Something was going to happen. She was angry and frustrated, and whatever magic she had was bubbling dangerously uncontrolled. Who was she?

A man walked into the bar, short, pretty, brunette. A solider, Tarogos noted, and all three women watched him as he headed upstairs to the rooms. The two women whispered to each other, a sly look coming over one of them, as she approached the bar.

“Yes?” Ana asked, slamming her own glass down on the bar. She didn’t like serving her.

The woman pursed her lips. “A beer and a red wine, and some politeness.”

Ana clenched her fists tightly, but complied. They would make life harder for Marina if she didn’t ‘play nicely’ with them. “Here,” she muttered.

Ana kept her eyes on them. The woman, the plainer looking of the two, slipped something from inside her dress—their hands were quick, but Ana saw it, whatever they put into the beer. And then the plain woman was heading upstairs after the pretty soldier—

Her gut felt cold.

She didn’t need to know anything to know what the woman was doing was wrong.

She threw down the rag she’d been using to clean the bar, suddenly in such a blind fury—she felt so angry that she felt as though she’d just suddenly set on fire. How could they?! They were foul, horrible women, but to… to do this to him?! She stormed ater her, throwing the door opened to the room she heard voices in.

There was no plan, she just intended to kick the woman out, declare her intentions loudly so she would be shamed, but—but she was so angry. She wanted to do more—and the woman was angry, too, livid she’d been interrupted—

“Leave us,” she hissed.

“I saw you put something in his drink!”

“What?” the soldier asked, quickly putting it down. He eyed the woman up; he didn’t like her the way she wanted, but he hadn’t thought she’d go this far! “I suggest you leave, Linette.”

“I will not!” she said indignantly, in a way that he thought should have been accompanied by her foot slamming on the ground.

“Did you hear the gentleman?” Ana asked firmly. “He asked you to leave.”

“You just want him for yourself, you sad little girl int hi sad little tavern in the middle of nowhere,” Linette breathed, staring down at Ana. She was a good head taller than her. “This place is a dump, the woman who runs it more-“

If she’d been mad at her intentions to drug the man, Ana was now livid. She felt so hot, so much pressure inside, like she would explode—suddenly, the curtains caught on fire and a nearby stack of newspapers blew up with purple energy.

Linette screamed, the soldier jumped to his feet, and the door burst open. “Freak!” Linette screamed. “You tried to kill me-“

“Ana.”

The man from downstairs, he was gentle sounding. His hand on her shoulder jumped her, bringing her back into the world around her—had… had she done that? But how? She felt so panicked, wanting to turn and run but instead she hit his chest and his arms tightened around her.

“You need to calm down or you will blow this place up,” he said firmly. “I can help you. You need to trust me.”

“W-who are you?” she asked, hands shaking. “Do you know who I am?”

“No, but I can find out,” he said, raising his hands to either side of her head. He looked up at the other two occupants of the room and suggested they leave. Linette needed no warning and hurried out and downstairs, yelling about freaks and attempted murders. The soldier, however, lingered.

“Thank you, Ana,” he said gently. “For stopping her.”

Ana smiled weakly at him, wanting dearly to tell him that now wasn’t the time for this but—it seemed to soothe her, relax her somewhat. He left after that and she turned back to the other man. “How are you going to find out?”

“I am Tarogos,” he said impressively, as though she should know him. “I am a blue dragon.”

“You look very human to me-“

“No time for a quick tongue,” he said back sternly. “You have magic coursing through you, uncontrolled. If you lose your temper you will destroy this entire place.”

Ana stiffened.

“I’m going to go into your mind,” he said, staring at her evenly. “Find who you are, try and calm the magic and draw it out safely.” He could teach her to do it herself, but he wasn’t entirely sure there was time—and… he wanted to know if she was involved in what happened to his beloved. “You have to trust me. It will be uncomfortable.”

“Please,” She begged, gripping the front of his robes. “I need to know who I am.”

Tarogos had navigated many minds before; it was his favourite form of magic along with telepathic communication. He and his Aurigosa had spent many, many years perfecting those forms of magic. He breathed. But her mind was something else.

A jumble, and full of pain, as if it didn’t know what to feel first.

He saw Lady Jaina Proudmoore, he saw Theramore, Stormwind, the body of a blonde-haired boy, and the same boy kissing her—and then a great battle, and the staff, Acalima appearing to her—

Tarogos breathed.

Eryn.

He dug further, trying to find anything else. A brother, and then—there! Magic, being ripped from her—he felt sick as he replayed the thought over and over. He felt Aurigosa’s magic pulling it from her, the pain on her body—the elemental protecting her as much as he could as he was removed—

No wonder she forgot everything. Her mind was trying to protect her. Too much pain, to have everything you are taken from you. He’d seen many mages who were cut off from magic, seen the way they’d become drunks or hopeless individuals at how dull the world became. Yet, magic still responded to her, returning to her to fill the void that now lingered in her—

He should tell her.

They were looking for her.

But—

It would overwhelm her, he couldn’t tell her everything. Maybe she had to remember in her own time, and—as he took a step back, he looked her over. She was happy here, happier than he’d seen in her memories. There was no pain here, she hadn’t lost her family, her home, she wasn’t torn between her love and what she thought was right, there was no feeling as though she was a monster—

She was happy.

If he told her… would she lose it? Was it not kinder for her to… stay like this?

But the king, the prince, Jaina, they had to know. And, he knew, if it was him, he’d want to know. He’d take all the bad in the world for Aurigosa, and he was positive she would feel that way for the prince. 

“S-so?” she asked, wringing her hands together. They were cold again.

“Your name is Eryn Miller,” he said gently. 

“A-and?”

“I can not tell you any more other than that you are a powerful mage who needs to learn to control your magic again—if I tell you… it will overwhelm you.”

“I want to know!” she demanded, looking around for some way to convince him.

“You will,” he said, coming closer to her and trying to calm her so she didn’t get worked up again. “You’ll come with me, I’ll take you to Dalaran and teach you control on the way. There are people there who know you, by the time we get there you’ll be in enough control to… handle the truth.”

Ana—Eryn—she didn’t know if she liked this. She gulped down, nodding absently. “My life was full of sadness, wasn’t it? I can feel it, when I try to remember it.”

He considered her, before nodding. “Yes. You lost a lot, but there was goodness too.”

Eryn breathed. “I lost something, around my neck-“ She put her hands on either side of her neck. “I need to go back and find it. I know it’s important.”

Tarogos wanted to protest, they should head straight to Dalaran, but he thought, maybe, she could remember on her own if she retrieved it. And—he was curious about this man—his hands clenched into fists. Perhaps he’d come back for her, maybe—Tarogos peered down at the small girl. Aurigosa would hate him for even consider using her as bait, but he needed to find who he was and to get his revenge.

Then, he debated what to do with Arcalima. The staff was hers by rights, as much as he would have longed to keep hold of it—it had chosen her, presented itself to her, and the fact it hadn’t faded back into the nether yet meant it was staying to return to her. 

“Tarogos, sir-“ she said, moving closer. “Can I ask how I forgot? Or… why? Did I really fall into-“

“Yes, you did,” he said. “But that didn’t cause it.” The dragon paused, running his hands through his hair as he debated the proper wording he should take. “You… once shared your body with a powerful magical entity. Someone… forcibly tore it from you. Your mind shut off to protect you.”

Eryn felt cold.

She wanted to run off, to scream, to tell him that he was wrong—to tell him to reverse time somehow, to never come here. She was perfectly happy as Ana, and now—now this Eryn—what was Eryn like? A powerful mage, but was she kind? Was she hard working? And she’d been in pain—

He’d mentioned goodness, but it seemed so hard to focus on, the tiny goodness she felt. It seemed nothing next to the happiness Ana had. “Someone is waiting for me, aren’t they?” she asked, her voice low and strained.

“Yes.”

Eryn opened her mouth to ask who—but would he tell her? She felt so sick, so light headed—she should run. Take off past him, out into the wastes—she probably wouldn’t last a few hours alone, cold, no rations, no weapons—but she suddenly wanted this all to end. Why was she so scared of this Eryn and what her life was? All life had pain, pain was the partner to happiness; she knew that, you couldn’t have one without the other, but… but she was so scared. So terribly frightened. Maybe she’d made a mess of her life,maybe she’d done awful things. The person, waiting for her—

She tried desperately to remember them, but all she cold think of when she tried was the rising urgency to find what she assumed to be a necklace of some sort. Maybe it had answers—if she got it back… maybe she could decide then. 

Ana was a coward, Eryn decided, but at least she was happy. Ana wanted to run away from the idea of a painful life, even if it had happiness in it. What would Eryn do? Ana didn’t know—Eryn—oh she didn’t know!

She couldn’t stay, she knew that. It was dangerous to everyone if she was really such a threat. Eryn breathed out, nodding. She decided; she’d stay with him to learn, retrieve whatever she’d lost, but before they could reach Dalaran, she’d abandon him, find somewhere else to carry on this new life. She refused to go back to a life that seemed to scare her so much.

Yet as she went down the stairs into the bar and her eyes set upon a blonde man, sat in the corner by the window, her heart panged. She didn’t know this man, there was nothing about him which made her feel she should know him—and when he looked at her there was no recognition, either. But he’d made her pause, made her heart thump.

Then the loneliness hit her. Whomever it was that she needed to get back to—the feeling was so deep. Too consuming that she barely felt able to breathe. Did Eryn always feel this alone? Or was it just away from this person? How could she bare to be away from them, if so? She could go make her life elsewhere, but—but she was never going to escape the loneliness she suddenly felt, was she? As if there was only one person in the world who could quell it—could—

Eryn breathed. She’d think about it later, when it came to make a choice. For now—for now she just had to focus on putting one step in front of the other. 


	9. IX: Bait, Guilt, Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip I know it's moving really fast but .___. I didn't feel like writing x amount of chapters of them just walking through snow okay xD

Dragonblight was larger than Eryn had thought.

According to her new ‘friend’, or travelling companion, or—whatever he was- guide, saviour, teacher—she snorted—according to him Dalaran was at least a month away by foot. Quiet. He was quiet. Always stoic, he never said much. Sometimes if he felt her getting worked up he’d bark at her, tell her to calm herself.

At nights he’d speak more, after they’d made camp. He tried teaching her basic magic but he didn’t seem to be trying hard. She pushed him, demanding he try more but—Tarogos knew it was pointless. She would need her years of knowledge to be able to control the amount she had, she would never be able to grasp it properly without Alchos, not unless she got her memories back. The leylines were already attuning to her, filling up the void the elemental had left. Control was all he could teach, but she could barely do it. To learn it—

Yet he couldn’t do it, give her memories back, tell her who she was.

Was it pity? Sympathy?

He didn’t know what was worse. He thought about heading to Wyrmrest, seeing if the Dragon Queen would see her, seeing if she could soothe her, guide him. Yet—all he could think was how they’d all dismissed his worries about Aurigosa.

They could have flown to Dalaran, he knew that, but he was hoping to find out more information. Use her as bait. If something was hunting powerful magic, he was all but dangling her on a stick. It would solve three problems: one, who was behind it; two, what to do about her unstable magic; and three, whether or not to tell her who she was.

She had a thing with the human prince. Tarogos snorted. This girl wasn’t anything like the one he’d heard about, there was no fire. There was courage, but no fire. Just confusion. If he told this girl that one day she would probably be a queen he thought that she would probably throw up and faint.

This girl was sad, though, not happy. She tried to be, he could see it. The cheeriness she had, he didn’t believe it. She was too content with the silence. What would happen if they found the item she sought? He’d found nothing apart from her staff at the site, but he’d not checked in the ravine. If the locket was there… would it make her remember?

It occurred to him that if she did remember, if she could learn control quick, she could be an ally against whomever was doing this. That he would get his answers, that Kalecgos would have to listen to both of them. He just couldn’t do it.

If he had power to forget the pain of his life he would have done it so quick.

Would he?

Tarogos watched the girl read a book he’d had stowed in his pack. Some human romance novel Aurigosa had enjoyed. He found it ridiculous, but she’d been so entranced by the idea of books he’d been unable to make himself stop her from reading it.

Did he want this life?

She remembered Anduin’s existence, but not him.

He couldn’t imagine that. Knowing Aurigosa but not who she was. Her scent, her warmth, her beautiful horns, but not whom they belonged to. It would torture him, he couldn’t imagine that pain.

The blue dragon grunted, getting to his feet and dusting the snow off his robes. He refused to think about it anymore. He’d let things go naturally, if she remembered then she remembered; if Kalec and Jaina decided to ‘fix her memory’ then so be it. He was not going to be the one responsible.

But he did not like it, the guilt he felt at dangling her as bait.

Nor did he like how he found himself speaking with her more.

He hated the pang when he’d taught her constellations at night, and how she’d sat there, frozen, positive she’d done it before. Then she stared off into a space he supposed Anduin must have been in her memory. He’d watched her, hating himself for being able to end it but not being willing to.

He didn’t like humans, he didn’t trust them, especially not with magic. He supposed that was why Kalecgos had not listened to him; he still distrusted him for agreeing with Malygos so long ago. Tarogos snorted; what did he know? He was young, he’d not seen some of the atrocities humans could do. He’d seen some, but—he’d seen more. He’d been in the nether, he’d handled some of the magical artifacts, seen memories of battlefields entirely decimated by magic misuse. The ley-lines were out of control still, and though he knew that was must as much Malygos’ fault as the humans….

What he hated most was how he felt this woman should have had magic.

He could sense it, the way she would reach out with magic first, or at least try to. The way she seemed to want to use it like her arms, to levitate things, to strengthen her legs if she was tired. He’d seen it in her mind, the good magic. The flowers she made, the polymorphing to make children laugh, the levitating of groceries, pulling books down for elderly people—

Pure magic. Good magic.

Aurigosa would have liked her, he decided.

She would hate him for doing what he was.

And yet his guilt came too late.

It was one week since they’d left. He’d deliberately been leading her in circles, but had decided they couldn’t prolong arriving at the ravine much longer. They were approaching it; soon she might get answers, maybe he would, too. Or, maybe she would curse at him, yelling at him—screaming and yelling and crying because she felt things she didn’t wish to.

He didn’t understand how humans did it. They had such short lives, no time to fully process pain they went through, yet they willingly felt it any way. They were always so open to emotions, pain, love, hope, happiness. How did they do it? He’d never thought they were a particularly strong race, physically or mentally, but perhaps he’d been wrong. Perhaps he’d judged them too much.

Arcalima was stowed in his bag and he debated giving it to her. It _was_ hers, as much as he tried to deny it. He’d taken it out to look it over, noting how the star on the top had pulsated again. It had gone entirely dim when he’d last looked upon it, and now near her—it longed to be with her, he could sense it.

“Eryn,” he called, dropping his pack to the ground.

She stopped walking and turned to him. “Are we stopping?”

“A small break,” he said, shrugging and moving to sit on a rock. “There’s a snow storm coming in, we may have to camp in that ravine as soon as we get there—” he inhaled. “I haven’t been honest with you. There’s a quicker way to get to Dalaran.”

The girl’s brows knotted together and she looked at him. “What? You said we couldn’t fly.”

He snorted. “We can’t.” They could, a voice said in his head, marking him for the liar he was. “We could have taken a portal.”

“I wanted to find-“ she put her hand on her neck. “A locket you said it was,” She nodded.

“I know,” he breathed. “Look, we should take the portal after you’re-“

“Ah.”

Both of them looked up to the new figure.

Eryn didn’t know who he was, but he was tall, imposing, and he had a crazed look upon his face. He was stood on a cliff nearby, looking quite impressive. A friend? But when she glanced to Tarogos and watched the way he snarled, she realised this man was no friend.

He’d been too late in his regret. He could sense it instantly, the power of this man. He’d come back to finish whatever it was he’d started, and he knew he didn’t have the power to stop it. “Run,” he hissed to the girl. “Go to Dalaran, seek Jaina Proudmoore and Kalecgos. Give them your name, they will send you to them straight away.”

“Taro—what—”

“Oh yes, do run,” The figure said, cracking his knuckles. “I do so enjoy chasing my prey, however, I’m here for the dragon.”

Taro’s head snapped to him. “What?”

“Yes, you,” Damien mused.

“What did you do to Aurigosa?”

“Was that her name? The pretty little thing?” he chuckled, jumping down, using magic to levitate himself to land on top of the snow. A show off, Tarogos thought. “I asked her how to remove an elemental from a human, she didn’t tell me. So I took the information.”

“It was you—it was connected—” Tarogos inhaled, moving quickly in front of Eryn. This was his fault. He’d lured him out with her, and now… because he’d underestimated it, because he’d cared more about revenge for the dead—“Go!”

“No-“ Eryn said, staring at him. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that the spell worked,” Damien advanced on them. Tarogos pushed Eryn back, throwing his pack to the side and hoping she would take it and run. She didn’t move at all, just stood there, watching in awe as he turned into a large dragon. “Oh you want to show off?” he snorted. “You’re going to tell me how to control this elementals power. He won’t do as I command!”

So he had a temper.

Maybe he could use it against him?

But even as he flew at him, even as he charged icy magic towards him—he felt his strength go. He had nothing in him to flap his wings, to get him into the sky—just a burning pain. He screamed in pain, his large body landing on the ground with a thud. He was tearing the magic from his body?! Blood magic?!

“Yes, blood magic,” Damien murmured. “I learned this from your previous little Aurigosa-“

“Don’t say her name,” he snapped out. “Eryn, run-“

He broke off as more pain came over him.

He would die here, maybe Eryn would too. He had to get help for her, but what could he do? He couldn’t fly, all he could do was—

Yes.

He fluctuated his magic out. Pulsating it as much as he could in hopes Kalec or another dragon would feel it; that they would come to his aid, or at least come to Eryn’s. She had to be safe in this. Strange, he’d felt no warmth for her at first, but now—

Aurigosa would be proud, he thought, that he’d finally cared for a human even a little.

Death seemed welcome to him. This was better than forgetting. It was nothing, and if something was there on the other side, if Aurigosa was there—if she would greet him… then he would welcome death as though it were an old friend.

Eryn sunk to her knees in the snow. She felt so weak, so unable to do anything as Tarogos’ cries echoed out. Whatever this man, this Damien was doing to him—he was in pain and she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t think straight near him, as if her brain was trying to think around him and—she choked out, feeling as though she could be sick. There was so much blood.

Her eyes clenched tightly.

She willed herself to vanish from there, willed herself to slip into a slumber and for someone to wake her when it was over. She’d be home, in the arms of the person who was waiting for her, and this would have all been a horrible nightmare. Her arms shook as she fell forward onto them, and as her eyes opened, she noticed she was crying.

How pathetic.

She was crying when this dragon, this man—he was dying. He’d told her to run, get away from this man, seek Jaina Proudmoore and Kalecgos, but her legs wouldn’t move. She couldn’t stand up.

Tarogos continued to cry out in pain, but they were becoming quieter. It wouldn’t be long.

Damien stared at the girl, an evil smirk upon his face as he walked towards her. “It’s interesting you survived, I suppose Alchos shielded you with the last of his power.”

“Who are you-“ She choked out, staring up at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“You don’t remember… really?” Damien threw his head back, laughing deeply. “This dragon knew too much, I can’t have him telling anyone,” he said sweetly, kneeling in front of his sister. “Not until I have control, if he’d just told me how to control this elemental…” he sighed, pushing her hair from her face. “You don’t remember, you can’t tell me. I may as well just kill you.”

Eryn clenched her eyes, her body shaking. The cold, the fear—she didn’t want to see her death coming. She wanted to be somewhere else. She tried to remember, forced her mind to work—perhaps the logical thing was to force herself to remember something this man wanted to know, but she just… wanted to remember something to make her smile. To make her strong, to be able to look upon her death. The soft scent of parchment, warmth, blue eyes—but nothing else—but….

But it was enough.

She looked up at him, a fire in her eyes as she balled the snow up, throwing it right into his face. “You’re a monster.”

He growled, grabbing her around the throat tightly. “I will make your death so slow, so painful-“ he paused. She felt a crackle around his hands—magic? And yet—he dropped her into the snow. She gasped, coughing for air and rubbing her sore neck. He stared at his hands, looking as though they’d betrayed them and then—

Damien roared, hooking his foot into her gut and sending her flying along the snowdrifts. “He won’t hurt you! Isn’t that funny? He stops all of my magic-“ he inhaled, approaching her. “No matter… you won’t tell anyone, will you, sweetling?” he asked, kneeling in front of her again. She trembled as he reached out for her and he smirked widely. “If you tell anyone they will die, they will cry out more painfully than this pathetic dragon did. Anyone that you care for will have the fate. Go, run, slink off into some pathetic life. Get out of my sight. Maybe if you hide yourself well I won’t find you to finish it when I have full control-“ he paused, running his hand across her cheek. “Go.”

Eryn gulped, staring at Tarogos. His breaths were laboured and few and far in between. “I’m sorry, Taro-“ she cried softly, pushing herself up and stumbling off. Every time she fell Damien would laugh, but she willed herself to not look back. Taro had told her to find this Jaina, this Kalec but—but how could she… Tears ran down her cheeks as she continued to wade through the snow. It was cold without the dragon’s warmth, lonely without his voice.

Was this her life? Had it always been this? Loss, pain, death? It didn’t seem any way to live, but what did she know? Nothing. She knew nothing. Her hands ran up her neck. She hadn’t found whatever it was, but could she even go back to look for it? She didn’t know. She didn’t even know how to get away from here—she didn’t know where to go. Back to Wintergarde? But the thought of him hurting Tymee or Marina and she felt sick.

She couldn’t keep going, she knew that.

Eventually she found a bluff slightly sheltered from the winter storm and she sat there, arms wrapped around herself to keep warm. Her teeth chattered, and her tears stung her face, warm against the cold bitter wind. She could just sleep there. No one would know. Close her eyes, be some place else. She didn’t care what in her mind was truth anymore, if the sweet happy things were lies, she’d rather be lied to for the rest of her life than this. She didn’t want to die cold, alone, and hungry. She didn’t want to die at all—

How had this happened?

Maybe she was a bad person. Maybe whatever reason this man had, it was because of something she’d done wrong to him—maybe she deserved all of this. She gulped, feeling her throat tighten. But someone that bad… if she was… someone that bad didn’t deserve the brightness she knew she had in her life. If she could just remember him—the owner of the blue eyes, of the smile she’d seen in her sleep. One which made her stomach tighten and her lips turn up without her say. Bad people didn’t have that, didn’t deserve that… she was sure of it.

And yet—

And yet---

What was she supposed to do? Wade through snow until she caught influenza and died? Fight back? She snorted at the idea. Who could fight that? She doubted there was anyone strong enough to stand against that. She didn’t know—she knew… she knew nothing. Eryn sobbed. She was lonely, cold, hungry, afraid, lost, confused.

Where did she go from here?

_I’m sorry_ , she thought over and over, thinking of the beautiful smile and the more beautiful eyes. She didn’t know him, but she was sorry. He was waiting, and she was never coming home.

_I’m sorry_.


	10. X: The Dragon, The Knight, and The Princess

Valliance Keep in the Borean Tundra had changed a great deal since Irina had last been there. True, it had been some time ago. Simpler times. When all she'd had to worry about was bringing down the Lich King. The death knight snorted. Simpler times indeed. Back then this place was a shadow of what it was now. Without the constant threat of scourge, with its people able to live freely and develop trade and work the healing land, the town had built right up into a bustling market town. It shocked her, but not as much as the fact she did not feel... unwelcome. 

The last time she'd been there had been a stop through on her way to take intel from Thassarian. The hostility had meant she'd not even stayed a night; but now it was the opposite. They seemed to want to encourage her to stay; whether they wanted the trade, or they felt guilty, or they just treated everyone like this she didn't know, but it was a welcome change.

As it was, no one had seen anyone matching Eryn's description. She'd gone to Dalaran to take any information she could from Kalecgos and Jaina, but they'd not been able to give her any more than she'd started with. Eryn, it seemed, had simply vanished. She wanted to believe it wasn't suspicious, that perhaps the world had gotten too far, and Eryn had decided to escape, but... she would never have left Anduin and Varian to worry the way they were; she knew that.

Plus, this brother worried her.

She'd gone to Amberpine, briefly, to find him. But there was no sign, no trace; no one even remembered him. To make it worse, she picked up the horrible stench of undeath in one of the houses and was disgusted to find the body of a woman and a man, mutilated beyond belief and recognition. It had reminded her very much of the cultist killings--

Alarming was too small a word. Panic. The cult of the damned were dealt with, weren't they? They couldn't possibly be involved in this?

It had been over a month since Eryn had left Stormwind and she refused to believe that no one had seen her. The only place she had left to comb over was Dragonblight and the Stormpeaks; but why would Eryn be there? There was nothing in either of them but a vast wasteland or mountains. If she was lost out there she'd have frozen to death by now—well... she was a mage, she did have magical fire, but Irina reasoned she would have just portaled elsewhere.

It occurred to her that, perhaps, she was no longer in Northrend but she could just feel it in her body. She was here somewhere, and someone had to know something. She refused to believe no one knew a thing!

Irina breathed out, downing her glass of brandy and muttered, paying for her tab as she gripped her runeblade and stalked from the tavern. Scouring Dragonblight would be easier with help from one of the dragons, but, well, they weren't overly fond of Death Knights. Perhaps Kalecgos would help? They'd cover more ground, perhaps he could sense something.

With that in mind, Irina turned to the local mage who portaled adventurers and visitors to the floating magical city. 

\---

Eryn had no idea how long she'd been walking.

She had no idea how she was even alive and not dead from cold, but, here she was. Wandering through the frozen wasteland. She'd stopped paying attention to the sunrise and sunset, only using them as markers for when to eat and when to rest. It made her less scared, somehow, living on the wilderness alone like this. She only had a dagger, using it to kill deer was difficult, but she'd gotten the hang of it and if she left the majority of the carcass for the bears they were often content to let her be. The snow acted as a preserve for some of the meat, too, so she'd only had to hunt twice. There was an abundance of berries and plant life she found were edible too, she hadn't questioned how she had instinctively known which ones were safe, she assumed she must have been knowledgeable in her past life.

Past life.

Eryn snorted.

As if it were dead, gone, someplace else entirely.

But wasn't it? And what hope did she have for remembering?

Should she remember?

Was this going to be her life from now on? Living in the cold wilderness? It could have been worse, she guessed, at least it was peaceful. And yet she carried on walking as if searching for something, as if compelled to find something. The locket was the other way and she wanted to turn that way and find it, but her feet kept going.

When the snow started turning into salt flats she realised she'd left the snowy plains behind her and had stepped into new territory. She began to see more and more people, and realised there must have been a human town nearby. The man's words echoed in her mind every time she thought about venturing towards one, a warm bed and a bath would have been welcome, but she refused to have any one elses deaths upon her hands. And so, she watched from afar. It was a busy little town, people were always coming and going. Everyone seemed so happy.

Seeing other people happy made her heart squeeze. 

She was jealous of them, and it made her sick. What kind of person was jealous of the happiness of others? A bad person, she thought, clenching her eyes. A bad person would also give no thought to the lives of others, she reasoned, a bad person would have gone into the town without a care. But here she was, taking in the scent of freshly baked bread and listening to the sound of children playing and the sound of a busy market.

There was one issue, though, and that was that the town had a port. Perhaps if she just passed through to take the ship to whereever it went... then it would be okay? If she kept to herself, stayed as briefly as possible. If the ship needed money—she breathed—maybe she could just stow away somehow. There had to be a way.

She'd hoped, however in vain, that Tarogos would catch up to her. That he would have survived and he'd have answers for her. But he was not coming and he was not alive and she was alone. To make things worse, she started having dreams—not unpleasant ones, but ones in which she didn't want to wake from. Warm warms, soft lips, gentle laughter—everything warm and happy, where she belonged. Every time she awoke from one of these dreams she'd spend at least an hour lying there, trying to piece the memories back into her brain and ingrain them so she could always remember them. It did no good, they would fade away quickly and leave her longing for the next one.

Eryn's stomach growled and she sighed to herself, starting up a fire to cook some of the meat. There was little left. 

Tomorrow.

She'd venture into the town tomorrow, find food and a bed, and the day after, she would leave this frozen place.

\----

Irina had seen plenty of dragons before, but she was still in awe of how large they were. And Kalecgos was no exception as he soared overhead.

He'd readily agreed to help search, reasoning that he'd been intending to investigate a leyline fluctuation in the area which had appeared a few weeks ago, too. They'd been searching for an hour so far, but nothing.

Irina rode her horse through the tundra, searching the caves and buildings which he could not search. After a while, they split up. As he headed towards Wyrmrest, Irina headed towards Wintergarde. There had to be someone there who knew her, surely?

"A death knight?"

"Shh, Martin, she hasn't seen us-"

"Well she has now, Ty! She's going to come for our souls-"

An exasperated sigh left Irina's tightly closed lips as she turned to face the human, the dwarf, and the gnome who had hidden behind a rock upon seeing her. Honestly, if she wasn't so pressed already, she would have found it amusing. Now it just bothered her. 

"I don't have time for games," she called. "I'm looking for a woman."

"A woman?" The human asked, peering around. "W-why? A sacrifice?"

Irina clicked her tongue, spurring her horse towards them. The dwarf screamed, diving further behind the rock as her horse kicked up snow and reared in front of them. She wanted to be intimidating; she wanted them to fear her, so they would tell her everything she needed to know. She was done playing nice! It got no results!

"Answer me; have you met a woman named Eryn on your travels? She's a mage, young. Small. Has a staff that shines brightly."

"No," the gnome answered, seeming to be the calmest of the three, though Irina did note how nervous she seemed. "The only woman I've seen in these parts was that girl-" she looked at Martin. "Didn't you say she was going by Ana?"

The human shrugged. "Well she couldn't remember her name, Marina-" Irina clicked her tongue again. "Marina is the innkeeps wife in the town, she'd be able to tell  you more."

"This Ana," Irina said slowly. Couldn't remember her name? "What did she look like?"

"Small," Tymee answered. "Short brown hair, blue eyes-"

"Blue eyes?" Not her then. Irina sighed, shaking her head.

"We found her in a ravine just North-West of here," Martin replied. "She'd fallen down and lost her memories or something. I brought her to Wintergarde to see if anyone knew her; they didn't. She stayed there, though. Last I heard she was working in the tavern."

Irina shook her head again. "The girl I'm looking for has lilac eyes-" her eyes narrowed. "You look suspiciously nervous, like three cats who just got into the cream."

"Nope. No cats, no cream," the dwarf said loudly. "We don't know anything else."

"Someone knows something!" Irina yelled, climbing down from her horse and slowly pulling off her gauntlets. "If I find out you knew something which could have helped me find her, I will tear your souls from your body and torment them in undeath-"

"Just show her, Martin!" Tymee shrieked, throwing her hands in the air. 

"But it looks valuable-" Martin sighed, rummaging in his pockets until he held out a locket.

Irina felt her heart stop. Anduin had told her about this, there was no mistaking it. She took it gently, turning it over to find the inscription—feeling cold. "Where did you get this?" She asked quietly. That Eryn was without it was not a good sign.

"The ravine, were we found Ana," Tymee  said quietly.  "Miss... you look... are you okay?"

Irina let out a shaky breath, clenching her hand around it. "Thank you... for your help. You said she was in Wintergarde?"

"Aye," the dwarf replied. "Can we-"

"No!" She yelled, snatching the locket away. "If you see the woman you took it from, you take her straight to Wyrmrest or to Dalaran. This locket is property of the crown, I swear, if I find out you're hiding anything else-"

"The crown?!" Tymee shrieked again. "Martin! Just what did you get us into?!"

"Wasn't me!" The human yelled back. "How was I supposed to know-" he turned to the death knight. "Just who is that woman?!"

Irina shook her head, keeping her grip on the locket tight. If she was in the town—if she was close—but her eyes...  blue? Perhaps they'd been mistaken in the light. There was a chance. "Her name is Eryn Miller, she's advisor to the king and she went missing a month ago-" she paused. "She's also the girlfriend to the crown prince-" Okay, so it was a white lie, but perhaps if they got scared into thinking hiding her was treason, they'd give up any other information. "So if you know anything else."

Tymee shook her head, slowly moving towards the human death knight. "I hope you find her, she was a sweet girl. Sad, though."

Irina nodded her head stiffly, climbing upon her horse and spurring it on quickly. She had to reach the town quick. Her heart seemed to race despite it being dead for so many years. Was she here? She lost her memory? Fallen down a ravine? Well, it sure explained why no one knew the name. Perhaps she was going to have to start the search again from scratch.

\---

Kalecgos stared at the dragon corpse feeling cold.

Tarogos. 

Why had he not listened? Aurigosa's body had been dead so long her magic would have naturally left her, and so he'd not found it strange, but this—Tarogos hadn't been dead long enough and yet there was no magic left. And there was so much blood. So much—someone had attacked him, taken his magic.

And, to make it worse, he'd found the dragon's pack nearby and inside found Arcalima. Dormant, dim, still. It vibrated to his touch, but didn't awaken. Did he know where Eryn was? What was going on? 

"Kalec!"

He turned to find the death knight charging towards him, looking frantic. "Irina—I found-" he held up the staff. "This is Tarogos-"

"Taro?" She shook her head, holding out the locket. "I met a group on the road to Wintergarde, said they found it in some ravine they found a woman who'd lost her memory," She breathed out, slipping down from her horse. "She was going by Ana, I went there but she'd been gone a few weeks. Some man named Taro took her with him after some issue rose up."

Kalec cursed.

"What happened to him?" Irina muttered.

"Someone killed him and took his magic. I assume Eryn was with him," he said slowly, trying to process it. "I didn't find any other body. Either whoever did it took Eryn or she got away."

Irina groaned. "Where would she go from here-" she stopped. "Kalec, there's something else. They said she had blue eyes; but I remember them being lilac."

The dragon nodded, brows knotting together in worry. "Alchos and the build-up of residual magic in her body exhibited itself by turning her eyes lilac. If they're blue it suggests she's lost her magic, but with Alchos it is imp-" he broke off.

Irina didn't need to be told what he'd thought of to figure it out. The drained dragon corpse at their feet was enough. Eryn's magic had been drained, before she'd met Tarogos. Which meant she was out there somewhere entirely defenceless with no memories. She must have been scared, if she was even alive. How could she survive Dragonblight with no magic?

"Kalec, we have to find her."

"I agree, there's no time to go back to Dalaran. We have to find her, before this... creature does. If they took Alchos there's no way they can control it, and if she still has magic it's going to be unstable-" he swore again. "The leylines! They were pooling somewhere, they're filling the gap in her left by Alchos. She's going to have magic build up and no way to release it."

"And what does that mean?" Irina asked, clutching the locket tightly.

"It means she can lose control and many people could die," he breathed, turning back into the great blue dragon. "We can deal with whoever is doing it after, if I focus on where the leylines are converging, perhaps they can lead us to her. Keep up, death knight."

Irina chuckled, mounting her horse again and gripping the reins tightly in her free hand. "Lead the way, dragon. We got ourselves a princess to save."


	11. XI: Redamancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!

Life is a funny thing.

One moment it can be peaches and cream, the next torrential rain with no jacket. Sometimes there’s no reason for the changes, they can happen randomly, after all, good things come in threes, and so do bad ones. But, other times, you can see the bad happen, the rain coming. You can see it slowly creeping upon you, and you can try to run but you know it’s inevitable, you know there’s no way to avoid it. Perhaps that’s worse, when you can see it coming and you know there’s no escape. You can argue that seeing it coming gives you ample time to hold your breath, to dig in your roots to withstand the storm but—

Irina had never really been sure of anything. Darion, perhaps, she was sure of him. How could she not be? He was always so constant, always so reliable. But everything else was just—nothing. It was nothing. Things changed, things came, things went. She’d long since stopped trying to predict how the future would go, but she couldn’t help it anymore.

Kalecgos had traced the ley energies back to Valliance Keep. 

Eryn was in there, and her magic was out of control and leaking, as he’d put it. Her magic was everywhere, it made it difficult to find where she was—and both had panicked when they’d found the trail leading to the ship. If she had gone on it… Irina closed her eyes, clutching the locket tightly in her hands. She would not fail her.

Yet they seemed to be racing against time, if they didn’t find her soon, what would happen was obvious. She’d seen the Dalaran Crater, she knew what magic could do; she’d seen Theramore too. Kalec had described it as being like the latter, she was an uncontrolled, uncontained mana bomb waiting to go off. And, on top, was the issue she didn’t remember; she had no clue who they were, and she was likely terrified if she’d been attacked. Approaching her would likely stress her, scare her, it could be too much.

“There she is!” Irina said, feeling relief.

Indeed, Eryn was exiting the tavern looking….

Irina’s icy heart all but melted. She looked so skinny, so pale, so… small and so terrified. She was trying to make herself be unseen, her hands were shaking. A pale image of her past self; where was the fire? The brightness? Even seeing her in the dark state she’d been in, Irina had still been able to sense the light there; the positivity, the hope. Yes, hope. That was what Eryn was. If Anduin was goodness, Eryn was hope.

Proof that no matter how bad things got, you could come out of it stood up with your shoulders back and head high. Proof that the storm didn’t always have to defeat you; proof that even if it did, it was still possible to be fine afterwards. Strength didn’t come from not breaking, it came from choosing to do better, from getting back up every time life kicked you in the gut. That was Eryn, hope and strength.

This was neither of those things.

“How do we do this?” she breathed. “I’m not exactly…” She bit her lip. She was in heavy plate armour, a juggernaut with a huge runeblade. She would terrify the girl.

“Try and get her to listen, show her the locket. Maybe it will trigger something. Mention Tarogos—we have to be gentle, but quick.”

Irina looked at him and let out a deep sigh. “And what happens if we can’t do it?”

“I can… attempt to shift her into the nether, but humans are not well suited to dwell there for long.”

“So she will die… if she doesn’t listen?”

“One life or many—you know what she would chose,” he said, but he sounded pained at the idea. “She wold choose to save this town over her life.”

“We can’t let that happen,” she said firmly. “Anduin would—Varian—” She frowned. “I would… I have seen too much death, Kalecgos. Caused so much. For once, I would like to save a life.”

The death knight and the dragon in his human form followed the girl. They kept a careful distance, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was eyeing up pastries in the market and—Irina’s heart pulsed again. She was hungry. Silently, Irina moved beside the girl and took a deep breath. “Pick whatever you like, I’ll treat you.”

Eryn shot almost five feet in the air, staring up at the plated woman with red hair. She’d seen her—not good. She wanted to be unseen, according to the people in the town, there was a woman searching for her—was this her? Was she a friend of that—“Get away from me!” She yelled, smacking her hand away and moving back.

The commotion caused the market to stop, to stare at the scene.

“Eryn, please, listen,” Irina said gently, offering her hand. “I know you. I’ve been looking for you-“

“Why?” Eryn snapped. “My friend died—are you here to kill me too? What do you people want from me?”

“Tarogos was my brother,” Kalec said quickly, stepping forward. “We are not here to hurt you-“

“L-liars,” she choked out.

Irina shook her head, kneeling on the ground, putting her blade in front of her. “I am unarmed. Please. Listen to what we have to say—you know it, don’t you? About the magic?”

Eryn stared at her hands. She could feel it now. If she hadn’t believed Tarogos that she’d been a mage, and that she was unstable right now, she did now. She could feel it everywhere inside of her, and she had no clue what to do with it. But—“I don’t trust you.”

“You know this, right?” Irina asked, holding the locket out. “It’s yours. Someone very special gave it to you.”

The young girl froze, staring at the item. The locket—she longed to reach out and touch it, and moved her hand forward. Someone special had given it to her, if she could just remember his face, his name, his—she gasped out, snatching her hand back and shaking her head. “I don’t—I don’t want any of that. I want to be left alone. Please… go.”

Kalec tensed. “Irina-“

Lightning crackled over the town and Eryn jumped again. Was she doing that?! Lightning struck one of the houses, setting it on fire—townspeople were running everywhere, screaming, crying—escape, they were yelling, get away! Was she—

High pitched and cold laughter shot through the air and Eryn felt cold.

“So you were with him!” she hissed, jumping to her feet and rushing off. She had to lose him—she wouldn’t—she wasn’t going to see this, see the town destroyed—

Damien sighed, leisurly strolling into the town square. “Ah, she has friends? Let me guess, that princeling sent you after her?” he sneered. “Well, you’re too late.”

“And who are you?” Irina spat.

“Oh? You have a dragon—oh my! Kalecgos, isn’t it?” He stared at him, glee filling him. “I was originally here for her, see, I got control of the elemental. I bent him to my will, and now he’s going to kill her for defying me. But now I get another blue dragon—” he sighed, closing his eyes and licking his lips. “And a former aspect no less—oh I will be powerful.”

“He’s insane,” Kalec muttered. “The power-“

Irina stared after Eryn. 

“Her magic is getting dangerous, what do we do?” she whispered, hand tightly holding onto the locket. Her eyes trained on Damien, tensing up. Kalec had no answer—what was the answer? Go after her and leave him—he would surely follow her but—Irina nodded, getting to her feet. “I wanted a good fight. Try not to hit me with a spell, yeah?”

The aspect didn’t seem to thrill, yet he admitted there was no other way. He watched as she stowed the locket in her breastplate then picked up her runeblade. It was amazing how easily she could swing it, years and years of physical training. It was an arm just as his magicwas. They had to do this, fast—maybe they’d be lucky, if Eryn saw them fighting him, maybe they’d earn her trust.

Irina was quick despite her armour. Not as quick as most warriors, Kalec thought, but quicker than he’d have thought. And well suited to fighting the mage. Her anti-magic barriers protected against his shields—and yes—she could fight him! He couldn’t absorb her power, it wasn’t magical. Sure, it came from the basis of magic, and she used magic in her spells but it wasn’t like a mages magic.

But he was strong. His spells were powerful. Kalec tried supporting her, the town was too small to become a dragon and fight with him, all he could do was shield any civilians who had lingered, snare the mage, or support Irina’s spells. He’d never felt so useless, he wanted revenge for his brother, for his brother’s mate—

“Enough!” Damien yelled.

Clang!

“No!” Kalec’s voice cried out, watching as Irina’s blade fell to the floor and she was blasted to the side. Damien had put all his magic into a blast to send her flying, it broke straight through her shields—he felt sick. If Eryn’s power was worrying, then how super charged this mage was, it terrified him. The leylines were going insane, if he didn’t stop—“You’re going to destroy everything,” he muttered. “If you keep taking power, your body will tear apart!”

“Shut it,” the man muttered. “You’ll get your chance, for now-“ he shot a spell towards Irina.

Kalec shot a barrier out, just as a small girl appeared in front of Irina, kneeling there. Eryn! Kalec prayed his barrier was enough, sighing in relief when Damien’s magic shot off. He might have been powerful, but it seemed he was not in control. If he could give Irina time, give Eryn time—maybe—“Why don’t you face me now?” he goaded.

“Fine!”

Irina stared up at Eryn, coughing up blood—ironic, really, that she still had blood in her veins. She was cold, hard, corpse and yet—“You stupid-“ she shook her head. “You could have died.”

“So could you,” the mage gasped out, eyes welling up. “Why are you fighting him, he can’t be beaten. I don’t want anyone else to die—just let him have me.”

“You’re kidding?” Irina stared at her. “There’s more than Kalecgos and I who will fight to protect you, Eryn. If you died… there’s a king and a prince who I know would wage war until they found who was responsible-“ She watched her flinch. “Eryn, your magic is unstable… Kalec and I, we can’t win without your help. You need to remember.”

“I don’t want to,” she gasped out, watching as the death knight dug into her breastplate for the locket. “It’s full of pain. This isn’t better, but—” she shook her head, clenching her fists tightly. “Just let him kill me. Tell them you didn’t find me.”

Irina pushed the locket towards her. “I know what it’s like to not remember anything about your past. I spent my life searching for my memories, and when I got them back—” she gave the mage a weak smile. “There was so much hurt there, so much tragedy. I killed my own father after he killed my mother, I was so young. I had to process and deal with that grief and guilt all over again.”

“So why would you want to remember it,” Eryn choked out. “If it’s so bad-“

“Because there’s good there, too, something worth it all. And you have it too—you know you do, don’t you?” she pushed her hand closer. “Please-“ 

A stray spell shot towards them.

Irina did the only thing she knew how to do and flipped her body around to take the brunt of it. Her body was better suited—the magic was so strong—and she gasped out in pain. She’d had worse—Arthas’ punishment had been worse than this—but she gasped out, slumping to her knees. “Please,” She whispered.

What should she do?

Run away?

That was what she wanted to do.

But her answers—

Eryn stared at the locket, hanging from the death knight’s hands and gently untangled the chain from her fingers. The lightning storm was getting worse, more people were getting hurt from stray spells. There was screaming, crying. A vague memory of a home, of its loss—

Eryn gripped the locket, looking it over. It was a beautiful thing, understated, simple, and yet beautiful. Delicate. And on the back, the inscription which seemed to mean nothing. A.L.W? The initials of the blue-eyed boy? Was that it? She traced her fingers over the initials, trying to focus hard. Magic crackled in the air around her—

What good was it! She couldn’t remember a thing!

And yet, there—somewhere in the back. Fingers lingering on her neck as they tied the locket around her neck. The scent of spice and vanilla, mixed with peppermint, low burning candles. A soft voice, laughing with her, calling her name—and a kiss in the moonlight, in a beautiful place she thought she should be with him—

“Anduin.”

It hit her all at once.

All the pain, all the loss. Everyone and everything. All the lessons she’d learned—and then, Alchos and Damien. Now she had to process that pain, and yet there was no time—her magic… she gasped out, body shaking. How could she contain so much power?

“Irina-“ she gasped out, staring at the death knight. “I’m so sorry, I’m-“

Irina breathed. “Thank the light-“

The fighting was bad. Neither of them seemed to be winning, but Kalec’s spells were weakening. Eryn shook her head, trying to clear it. She could think about everything later, deal with everything later. She could feel Alchos, Tarogos—

“My staff?”

She’d barely asked for it when it materialised in front of her. Yet, it seemed different. Brighter somehow. She gripped it, like a handshake with an old friend. It felt right, natural. Yes. It helped her focus her magic, the staff could endure it even if her body could not. 

Damien hissed when he felt her spell, barely managing to avoid it as it shot off against a building nearby, exploding into a pile of rubble. “You.”

“Me,” she spat, moving beside Kalec. “I think I owe you. You took something of mine.”

“Want him back?”

Her lips turned into a thin line. “You can’t control that power, Damien,” she said simply. “It will destroy you. Consume you entirely.”

He laughed. “You’re just jealous-“ he watched Irina stand up and limp over to the other two. “Three against one and I will still win. And when I’m done here I’m turning my sights on the rest of the world.”

“To what end?” Kalec muttered. “You people—you only ever want power even if it destroys you. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Listen to her—Alchos will never listen to you, and you were not made to wield the magic of a blue dragon. The leylines-“

“I don’t care!” Damien snapped.

Eryn acted first, shooting a spell towards him, but it was clumsy and unpracticed. She wasn’t used to her magic without Alchos, she hadn’t realised how… much he’d helped guide and focus her spells. Plus, it was so out of control—

The fight went on for a while. Kalec and Eryn trading spells while Irina went at him with her blade. That he was able to defend against them was something—even with Kalec tiring and Irina injured. But most of the town was in flames or rubble, if it carried on—her magic, his magic—it was so out of control—

“We have to end it,” Kalec cried out. “Or the pair of you are going to-“

“I know,” Eryn said weakly. “I know, I-“ she stared at Arcalima, frowning. She had to go back to Anduin, she had to tell him she loved him. She was never going to leave his side again, she was never going to—“Stop!” 

Irina froze, staring over at her. “Eryn-“

“Please, let’s talk,” she said, slowly approaching the pair. “Damien, this is going nowhere. You’re just going to kill us, then there’s no power. Maybe we can come to a deal.”

“No deal,” he growled.

“You can have my magic,” she said slowly. “I currently have more of it than Kalec, my body has been drawing on it for over a month, the leylines,” She stopped in front of him.

“Eryn, no-“

“Be quiet,” she snapped at Irina. “I’m not having you or Kalecgos die over this. Just trust me-“ she turned her eyes back to her brother. “You can have it, if you leave.” She could sense it, his body was already falling to pieces, unravelling. Wasn’t that what had happened to the Ethereals? That was why they bandaged their bodies, to keep the energy together, wasn’t it? And now—the magic would tear his body apart. And it would explode, and they would all—

“Why would I make a deal when I can just take it?” he asked, grabbing her before Irina could do anything.

“Let her go-“

Yet he drew her power out from a cut on her arm. “Yes!” he cackled. “So much power, oh! Little sister,” he murmured. “You would be quite formidable, even without—with… out? W-what have you-“ he stepped back, pushing her from him.

His body was glowing and pulling apart from the inside—oh it hurt—he was burning! It was as though all of his joints were being pushed into pieces-

“No!” Kalec cried. “He’s going to-“

Eryn yelled, grabbing his arm and digging her staff into the ground. Irina was pushed back as a barrier formed around them—“Eryn, you can’t—contain it—” she yelled, hitting the barrier with her fists.

“I know,” she said, focusing on his magic. He’d drawn enough from her that she had control now, like a cup with too much water, he’d taken the edge off. She’d have to deal with the rest of it later but- Eryn’s eyes flashed a vibrant purple as Damien stared up, his eyes also purple. “You wanted power.”

“I’ll take you with me,” he snarled. “You took my father.”

“And you took mine,” she snapped back. “But you’re not going to kill anyone.” She focused, chanting a small spell under her breath. It was strange magic, Kalec thought, time seemed to stop in the bubble. She drew his magic out like poison from a wound, it came out looking like sand. He stood there, watching carefully. This was powerful time magic, a spell she’d learnt from the elemental long ago? He would have laughed at any other time, Chromie was probably freaking out right now ‘the time ways!’ she’d be yelling—but there was nothing to laugh at here. 

Eryn drew the magic into the staff slowly. 

Irina felt she should have been disgusted, watching the mans body turn to dust, and watching the dust vanish into the air. What an awful way to go—no blaze of glory. Just turning into dust, turning into nothing—

Then, when there seemed to be nothing left, the star on top of the staff shattered and the bubble around Eryn, now alone, burst. Irina caught her quickly as she fell forward. “Eryn?!”

“She’s alive-“ Kalec gasped out, watching her chest rise. Eryn lay in Irina’s arms, one had clutching onto her staff, the locket tangled around her fingers there. She held onto it tightly, even as the staff slowly turned into dust itself. “She—she focused the magic into the staff… the only thing of magical power close that could contain it.”

“But it’s gone,” Irina murmured, brushing some hair from her face. She was just relieved she was alive—that she didn’t have to return to Stormwind with the bad news. 

“Yes, she always seems to give up something, doesn’t she?” Kalec sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “But a staff can be replaced. Even one as special as that.” He put his hand on her forehead, focusing. “Her magic is intact and controlled. Her body is trying to let her mind cope. Deal with everything.”

Snow slowly fell from the sky sticking into her hair. Irina hummed, taking a cloak from a villager who wanted to help. The town—when had it repaired itself? She looked around. “What on earth?”

“She did it,” Kalec chuckled. “The staff couldn’t contain it all, so she used some of the magic to turn back time on the town. Some of it is still bad-“ he motioned to a few houses which had one less storey than before. “She will probably never be able to manage a spell like that again. I’m impressed.”

“She will find a way to surprise you,” Irina chuckled, shaking her head. “Come on. We need to get her home.”

* * *

There was a warm summer breeze in the gardens of Stormwind keep. 

The rose bushes fluttered softly with the gentleness, and the apple blossom trees along with them, filling the air with soft scents. Anduin usually enjoyed this time of year, it was when the rose planted for his mother seemed to bloom the brightest. But this year the bush hadn’t blossomed at all. 

He’d come out to try and see if there was anything he could do to fix it, to distract himself, but he’d found himself at a loss. Why did he always feel so powerless? It was a beautiful day, he should be enjoying it.

He missed her.

Every day he missed her.

Where was she? Was she okay? In his heart he knew something was wrong. He’d been restless in his sleep recently, more than before. He’d had horrible dreams of Eryn all alone in the snow, terrified and small. He called out to her but over the sharp, bitter winds, she was unable to hear him. He’d watched, powerlessly, as she’d stumbled, often falling into the snowdrifts. Where was she? Where was she going? And why did she never look at him?

It was just a dream, he wanted to say, but he knew it wasn’t.

He should be out there, helping!

But his father was preparing to go to Draenor any day now, he couldn’t leave. He had his duty as prince, his duty to his entire kingdom. He had to trust Irina would bring her back.

The scent of apple blossoms was stronger in the garden than it had been all week, all month. Another breeze and he stood up from the rose bush, sighing deeply. If he closed his eyes he could imagine the scent was hers, that he was bending down to kiss her—

The door opened, and he snapped his eyes over. “Your highness- Its, she’s-“

Anduin dropped everything he’d been holding and rushed past the messenger. He didn’t care if running through the halls was unbecoming, he didn’t care who saw—he had to see her. She was—alive? Back? He gulped down, fear rising as he approached the reception room. He heard voices, Irina’s, his fathers, Genns—but not hers.

What lay on the other side of the doors?

Death?

But he had to find out.

It would kill him if he never knew, if she was dead… Anduin breathed out. No, no she was alive. He could feel it. Yet as he took hold of the handle of the door, his hands shook violently. If she was dead—

He pulled the door open.

All at once everything fell into place again, seeing her standing there.

He barely registered the state of her, he didn’t look at anyone else—he just crossed the room to her in three strides and pulled her flush against his chest. She was smaller than he remembered, skin and bones—why?

Eryn clung to him tightly, her fingers digging into his back, clutching at his shirt. Oh, how he’d missed her. “I was so worried-“ he gasped out, entirely uncaring of the company as he peppered kisses on the top of her head. He didn’t care about restraint, about taking it slow—she was everything to him, and he was going to make sure she knew it, every single day.

“I’m so sorry,” She cried out, sobbing into his chest. “I was so scared. Anduin-“ her hands shook as she moved them to grip his forearm, moving so she could lookup at him.

Her face was gaunt, dark circles around her eyes, paler than he remembered. Anduin put his hand on her cheek, thumb brushing the tears from her cheekbones. What had happened to her? She felt different too, she didn’t ‘hum’ like she used to, and her eyes were blue—her eyes were blue! He frowned in confusion. She was injured, cut in places, and tired—very tired—“You need to rest.”

Eryn shook her head. “I have to-“

“You have to rest,” Varian agreed. “Irina can tell me everything you told her. I can speak with you when you’re rested.”

“But-“

Anduin ignored her, lifting her easily into his arms. Did she always weigh this much? “You need to eat, too—” he gasped at her, trying not to jostle her too much as he took her through the halls towards his quarters. He was not letting her from his sight. “When did you last eat—what did you last eat—”

“Deer… handful of berries… two days ago,” she murmured.

He frowned.

Eryn sighed, closing her eyes, her head resting against his chest. She was just content to listen to his heartbeat. He was real. “Alchos is gone,” She said quietly. “So is my staff.”

“Shh,” he murmured, gently placing her on his bed. It was a mess—he’d been so unorganised because of his distraction, but he didn’t care. “We can talk about it later.” He turned to the door, pausing when she grabbed his arm. “Eryn?”

“Please don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “Please—not right now—I know it’s needy, and that you have things to do-“

Anduin turned, silencing her pleas with a gentle kiss. Soft, sweet, quick—he gulped down. What happened to her? She was so changed. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly. “I’m just sending for some food.”

It felt like hours while he was outside of the door, Eryn felt. She looked around his room, realising she’d never been in there before. Strange. She thought it would be cleaner, tidier—then again, people thought that about her, too. 

It had been two days and she’d not fully processed everything. 

They’d taken her to Dalaran to restore her memories properly. Jaina had overseen it with the priest, making sure they were as healed as possible. There were still things which were fractured, but they’d come back to her slowly. She’d barely been able to do anything but sleep. Irina had not left her side, either, and she was grateful for it.

Without Alchos it felt so lonely. Even if he was quiet all the time anyway, she still felt… empty. As though a piece of her was missing. And her staff—she sighed softly. And her eyes, that was the weirdest thing to get used to. She’d expended as much of the left-over magic as possible—Jaina was now left with a few thousand mana buns and Dalaran had a few less rats and a few more sheep and cats—and slowly her eyes had faded from purple. Now they would stay blue.

Odd. She felt so cold all the time now, too.

Anduin returned in and she sighed softly, looking at him.

“W-what?” he asked, not used to her giving him that kind of stare, It was intense, as if she saw more of him than he’d ever thought.

Eryn pushed herself to stand up, ignoring him telling her to rest—she had to do it, and she had to do it now. She approached him, frowning at how tall he’d gotten even in just over a month. “Your hair is long,” she whispered.

“Yours got longer, too,” he pointed out.

“But you usually cut it off.”

His cheeks went red and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “You said you liked it longer.”

“I do,” she breathed out, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down—and then, she kissed him. It was needy, full of everything she wanted to say, all the fear she felt, all the pain… and every emotion she felt for him. It shocked her, how her tiny body could contain so much love and not explode as if it were magic. It felt sure to consume her, and—“I love you,” She gasped out, pulling away from him. 

He didn’t hesitate. His forehead against hers. He’d waited so long to hear those words from her, hearing them felt better than he’d ever imagined, and—“I love you too,” he replied, his voice only just a whisper. 

“I love you, Anduin,” she said again, breathing in his scent. “I love you.”

He chuckled, arms wrapping around her to hold her close to him. He wasn’t going to let her leave his side, not for a long time. There was no doubt anymore, in either of them. No question where the future would go—she was his and he was hers, and he’d never been surer of anything else. Whatever had happened to her, whatever had happened in the past it didn’t matter. Any disagreement, any doubts of whether she was right, whether he could do good by her—it was gone. 

It was just the two of them, and they had a whole future in front of them.

** END **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! Wow! I mean, it kind of shocks me when people read anything I write because it's just sort of word vomit and it's /there/ but it doesn't... mean anything, and yet-- I mean, I'm positive a few people read this far just to see how much worse it could get, but hey! Still! Thanks for getting this far!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, and honestly, I can still think of things for Eryn but I think, for now at least, her story is done. I'd like to write about how she handles everything in the future, about how she's going to change and adapt and what she's going to do, but I think her story is ultimately done.
> 
> I admit, I thought about killing her at the end. I debated having her already go to Stormwind on the boat, and a huge fight but then I just-- I couldn't do it to Anduin. The one character I don't think I enjoy inflicting pain on. Haha, so she stayed alive.
> 
> I have my Varian story to do, Chantari is another character I really love. I wrote a lot for her about her in the past for my own kind of ramblings, so I got kind of attatched to her, but if you like tragic, you should keep an eye on her! Chantari is probably more tragic than Eryn!
> 
> I also have another story planned! Probably Anduin, but it could be Var it just depends really. But who knows, I want to finish Chantari first before I start on it, but I know what I'm like, and I'll probably start writing the new one tonight! That character, her name is Gwen, and I like her a lot already! So I hope you're going to like her too-- I mean, if you read-- and oh boy I'm writing an entire story here aren't I?
> 
> I just... have been unable to write things at length for a long time, but this story has kept me company through some really bad situations recently. In some ways I suppose it' replaced a lot of things I've lost and I projected a lot of the negative stuff I was dealing with onto Eryn; she could handle it a lot better than I could, but having her deal with it, having her admit that it was hard and how human she was, kind of helped me too. So every time I got a comment or a bookmark or a kudos, I just felt so spurred on. Nyaah, I could type for hours, but really, thank you for reading. I know it's not the greatest thing ever, in fact it's probably not even 'good', but really, just thank you ;u;.


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